


Here Comes the Sun

by bibliosoph



Category: Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: 60s AU, Alternate Universe, Drinking, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, M/M, Music, New York City, Politics, Recreational Drug Use, Stonewall, Vietnam War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-08 01:15:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 55,628
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26717356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bibliosoph/pseuds/bibliosoph
Summary: It's 1969 and Alex is the co-head of NYU's Students for a Democratic Society chapter and drowning in assignments and the pressure of setting up events. He's expecting to just get through senior year without a hitch but instead he finds himself dealing with the most infuriating protester he's ever met: Henry Fox.General warnings for recreational drug use and talk of the draft/war but I'll provide specific warnings on chapters when neededThank you toGhostangelfor being the best beta andPunchsomeoneformefor being the best artist!
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, June Claremont-Diaz/Nora Holleran/Percy "Pez" Okonjo
Comments: 83
Kudos: 90
Collections: Red White & Royal Blue Big Bang 2020





	1. One (January)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's one of the coldest months of the year and Alex just wants to make some change in the world, not have to deal with pompous gits with British accents.

[Here Comes the Sun Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3gMzoJAvUP8Em143xSC9hl?si=NUIyctAqSAOBS3DZnstNGg)

New York is as cold and miserable as it always is in January and, as always, Alex finds himself scowling as he trudges through the frigid streets. He’s back in the city for his final semester of college and he’s already planning out the rest of his life like graduation is tomorrow instead of in a few months. Back from spending the holidays with his family in Texas, he’s ready to settle back into his regular routine and he’s more than ready to be living in his own space again. Staying with his family for such long periods of time only reminds him of how glad he is to have his own––well, shared––apartment in the city that’s free from fighting and long talks about his future. He’s got hundreds of ideas for what he could do, but he knows that he’ll need to see how he stands near the end of the semester before he makes any big decisions.

For most of the break, his parents were drags about the whole after-graduation situation. All three of them drove him up the fucking wall with the future talk and imploring him to stay in school––though they didn’t care what kind of school––so he can’t get drafted when he’s done with college. Well, Alex has had enough of it after so long. In the beginning, it was nice to be home––he’d missed cooking with his dad and watching holiday movies with his mom, but by the end of break, all conversations revolved around the draft threat. It’s not like he wants to get drafted, either, but he just doesn’t know if more school is right for him. He wants to get out into the world and start making changes, and more school will only put that on hold. The war’s happening _now_ and Alex is desperate and eager to make a fucking difference. Plus, he’s pretty sure he won’t get drafted. Call it wishful thinking, but he just knows that they wouldn’t be able to handle his attitude.

On this pleasant Sunday—his first Sunday in the city for the new year—Alex is wandering around, taking in all the sights he loves, and re-familiarizing himself with the area around campus and his apartment. He’s already gotten food from his favorite street vendor in Washington Square Park, so now he’s headed to one of his other favorite places: the record store. It probably has a name, or at least did at some point, but the sign’s so worn and faded that it’s impossible to tell what it might have said. Alex likes how it looks now, though. It’s all worn and cool and every time he walks in, he feels like he’s in the know. 

The two owners––Amy and Cash––greet him with smiles and red eyes. He’s a pretty frequent customer and, on occasion, smoke buddy, so they know him pretty well by now. He’s been coming here since he first moved to New York for school. The owners are lovely people from California who have the best taste in music. He doesn’t even have to look around the store before they’re shoving a record in his hands and ushering him over to one of the players set up around the store to demo the music.

Alex examines the case for a moment––it’s something called _Led Zeppelin_ ––and slips the record out, hooking it up to the machine. He slips the headphones on over his ears as to not disturb the other two patrons and lets the music wash over him. 

It takes him about thirty seconds to know that he’ll be buying this and forcing Liam to listen to it for probably a week straight before he’s gotten his fill of it. So he gets it and walks back to his apartment with the record under his arm, already itching to set it up and hear the whole thing.

As soon as he walks in, Liam is there with a hug to greet him. 

“Long time no see,” Alex laughs. It’s true, he supposes, since Liam stayed in the city over break. After a pretty bad falling out with his parents, he doesn’t have anywhere to go for the holidays. Alex has tried inviting him back to Texas to hang with his folks dozens of times, but he knows that it’s hard for Liam to go back there. _Too many memories_ , he thinks. 

“You left your shit everywhere,” Liam tells him, pointing at Alex’s suitcases by the door. He rolls his eyes and walks further into the cramped apartment, already making a beeline for the record player in the corner by the sofa.

Liam follows him over, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and an eyebrow raised as Alex gets the record set up. “Already bringing home new music to annoy me with?”

Alex rolls his eyes and turns it on, letting the sweet music fill their apartment. “You’ll thank me, man. This stuff’s boss.”

Liam huffs and disappears into his room, so Alex sits down on the crappy second-hand sofa and closes his eyes to get the full effect. He hears Liam reemerge a moment later, but he’s too lost in the music to pay him much attention. 

“Got you a welcome home gift,” Liam tells him. 

There’s a dip in the sofa. 

Alex peeks one eye open and looks over at him. He’s got a brown paper bag in one hand, some papers in the other. Alex laughs, letting his head fall back against the back of the sofa. “You know me too well.”

Liam chuckles and hands Alex the papers since he’s the one that’s better at rolling. He hops off the sofa and sits on the floor by the coffee table, getting everything set up. Liam hands him the bag and Alex opens it, taking a whiff of the stuff.

“Damn, that’s good.”

“Only the best for you.”

Alex nods appreciatively and gets to work. It’s been too long since he’s had a proper smoke, in his opinion. He brought some home but severely underestimated how much his parents would annoy him with the future talk, so he ran out pretty quickly. He’s got a stash in his room here, of course, but the stuff Liam gave him is so _fresh._

He pulls a lighter out of his pocket and lights the joint, taking a deep breath as the smoke fills his lungs. He coughs a bit since it’s been a while, which makes Liam laugh. 

“I’ll bogart this,” Alex threatens. 

Liam kicks his back in retaliation as Alex passes the joint to Liam over his head. He watches as Liam takes a hit and blows out a nice, small puff of smoke in a perfect O.

“You’re a dick,” Alex laughs, getting back up onto the sofa. 

Liam passes the joint back to him with a smile. “Lump it,” he replies with no real bite. 

Alex closes his eyes and smiles softly to himself. 

It feels so good to be home, but there’s still so much on his mind. Even the weed can’t stop his thoughts from circling around his head and making him feel nauseous.

“Hey, Liam?” he asks after a while. He sits up, leaning against the armrest, and puts his feet in Liam’s lap.

“Yeah?” 

“Are you scared?” 

Liam stares at him for a moment and sets the joint down on the ashtray on the table. “Of what?” 

Alex shrugs. “I dunno. Being drafted, I guess. How this is all gonna go down.” 

Liam hisses out a shaky breath. “I mean, yeah. I’m not in school––it’s always on my mind that they’re just gonna send me a letter or whatever one day and I’ll have to go.” 

“You could go to college,” Alex suggests. 

Liam chuckles half-heartedly. “Can’t afford college.” 

“I’d pay for you,” Alex offers, “I’ve got money stashed away. I’d pay for you if it meant you didn’t have to be scared––if you didn’t have to go.” 

Liam looks at him for a moment, studying him, before shaking his head and squeezing one of Alex’s feet reassuringly. “I’m a big boy. I can handle myself, okay? Don’t worry about me.”

Alex considers it for a moment––imagines Liam in a foreign country and fighting a war that he doesn’t even want to be in. “You could tell them you’re gay,” he says in a near whisper. 

Liam scoffs at the idea. “Like they’d believe me.” 

Alex rolls his eyes. “You _are_ , though.”

Liam sighs and closes his eyes, resting his head against the back of the sofa. “This is too heavy, Alex. Even for you. I don’t want you worrying your pretty little head about me, okay? I’ll be fine. It’s not like it’s happening right now, anyway. If it happens, I’ll do it. I’m not gonna fight ‘em or anything. It wouldn’t be fair of me to get out of it when thousands of other guys have to serve who got it worse than me.” 

And Alex knows that Liam is strong and capable of handling himself, but he can’t help but worry. It’s not like Liam has any obvious reasons to be exempt, and he’s right to say that they probably wouldn’t think he’s gay even if he told them. He’s a big guy––he’s got the deep voice and the Southern drawl and looks like he’s been working on a farm or something his whole life. People don’t expect a guy like that––a guy like Liam––to be gay. 

The government claims they need men and Alex knows that, if Liam gets drafted, he’ll go. He doesn’t fuck around––he’ll do exactly what’s expected of him. He’s not into the whole protest scene or bringing Big Brother down like Alex is. But the thing is that Liam is the person that keeps Alex from crossing the line––he’s the guy that pulls Alex back when he tries to go out swinging. If Liam goes, Alex knows that it’ll break him. He’s already got a fire under his ass and a million reasons to fight against this stupid war and the pigs and hawks and everyone who’s offering anything other than peace, but Liam leaving will just add to that fire. Liam leaving will be the fucking lighter fluid. 

So Alex channels his energy the only way he knows how: protests and school. Nixon’s going to be sworn in on the twentieth which is, unfortunately, a Monday and therefore not a great day to have a protest. The first protest of the new semester is supposed to get people on campus to join their cause and the SDS––Students for a Democratic Society––so it has to be on a weekend or something. Plus, he knows that people like to make a whole thing of it––get blitzed, sell stuff, shout shit. It needs to be a day where people can just come out and fight for what they believe in while having a good time. Plus, people like to throw little after parties sometimes. Just as a way to relax and forget about life for a while. 

He sets the first protest of the semester for the Saturday before Nixon gets sworn in. It’ll have the same message they normally do these days––fuck Nixon, fuck the war, fuck discrimination. He tells Nora and June about it over dinner at one of their favorite diners by campus one night. 

First, though, he launches into a ten-minute monologue about _Led Zeppelin_.

“It’s _magical_ ,” Alex tells them after explaining each song in great detail. 

The girls look bored and annoyed with him, but that’s nothing new. Alex is amazing at pissing people off, even his own sister and his best friend. Nora’s much quicker to roll her eyes than June, probably because she’s already somehow calculated the amount of time she just wasted listening to his rant. 

“It’s great that you found some new music,” June says with a genuine smile. “Just make sure to do your work, okay? Last semester is the hardest one.”

Alex rolls his eyes and bogarts a fistful of her fries in protest. “I know. And I have to arrange the first protest of the semester,” he says with a mouthful of potato.

Nora looks unimpressed and disgusted, but June looks excited at the mention of a protest. They’ve both been very good at helping Alex with these events. Nora always helps him make signs while June helps him write little speeches to get the crowd ready for the day. Even though this is the first year that he’s technically a co-head and therefore in charge of running things, he’s been invested in these events since freshman year. 

“What day are you thinking?” June asks.

“I’m thinking Saturday––before Nixon gets sworn in. Probably pretty soon so everyone new on-campus can know who we are and join up.” He thinks about it for a moment. “Too bad Nixon’s inauguration is on a Monday. Would’ve been far out to have one while he was getting sworn in.”

That makes Nora laugh. It seems like she’s laughing _at_ him, though, which makes him frown. “Dude, you need to get over it. He was elected in _November_.”

“Yeah, so?”

“So, you’ve known that he would get sworn in. I mean, yeah, it blows, but you just need to accept that it’s gonna happen.”

Generally speaking, whenever Alex is given an explicit command to do something, he tends to do the complete opposite. Like when his mom told him that he could get involved with protests and movements in high school as long as he didn’t smoke or take any drugs and he promptly, at his first protest, dropped acid with a thirty-something-year-old dude from Nevada. So, because Nora has told him multiple times to get over the whole Nixon thing and focus on his schoolwork and the SDS stuff,he refuses to let a day go by without bringing it up.

“You’re just making it worse,” June tells her out of the side of her mouth.

“That’s true,” Alex agrees with a mischievous smile. 

Nora huffs at him but doesn’t say anything. 

“Oh, about the protest,” June starts, “can I bring some friends?”

Alex leans back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest. “‘Course. Who? People from work?” 

“Sort of. Remember that piece I did about the British guitarist who plays for a lot of bands that come through?”

Alex nods because he does. Very well. June had been excited about it for weeks because, allegedly, this guitarist knows anyone that’s anyone in the music industry. 

“Well, we hang out sometimes and she’s always telling me how she wants to get more involved. They came––”

“Who’s they?”

“Oh, sorry. She has a brother who lives here, too. A year older than you, I think. And her brother has a friend.” 

Alex nods.

“Anyway, so they came at the tail-end of the Civil Rights Movement so they’re excited to get back into the protesting stuff.”

Normally, Alex is thrilled at the prospect of helping other people get involved in his protests, but three British people protesting the war in Vietnam seems a little strange. While it’s great to have numbers, Alex prefers people with passion at his events. If these people aren’t from the U.S. or planning on staying, he doesn’t understand why they would want to get involved. 

He raises an eyebrow at her, very dubious. “No offense,” he says, which, in Alex-Speak, means that whatever’s about to come out of his mouth is certainly at least a bit offensive, “but why do they care?” 

Nora gives him her patented “shut up” look, but he ignores it.

“Because they live here, I guess,” June shrugs. “Bea’s nice, though. I don’t know about her brother or the friend, but I’m sure they’re fine.”

Alex sighs dramatically. “Fine, fine. If they’re squares, we’re gonna have a problem.” 

June rolls her eyes. 

Well, they’re not _all_ squares, as it turns out. 

When that Saturday rolls around, Alex is amped up and ready to go. He’s practically buzzing with a combination of nervous and excited energy––so much that it’s annoyed June and Nora to the point where they stopped talking to him for a few hours. 

Everything’s cool now, though. There’s a pretty decent crowd and June and Nora did a great job making shirts, signs, and little pins. Alex is already wearing one of the shirts under his signature Protest Jacket––a denim one that’s practically coated in all of the pins he’s picked up over the years at random concerts, head shops, record stores, and protests. It’s one of his most prized possessions. 

“Solid turnout, I’d say,” he says, surveying the crowd as everyone wanders around waiting for him to start things up. “Where are your friends, Bug?”

“They’re–” she squints and starts waving. “They’re right there, actually. Hey, Bea! Over here!”

Alex follows June’s gaze and sees three people walking towards them. As promised, it’s one chick and two guys. One of the guys looks right in his element with vibrant clothing and an eager smile, but the other one looks like such a fucking preppie that it makes Alex’s skin crawl just looking at him. Though there’s no dress code for these sorts of things, it’s kind of ridiculous to show up in a fucking button-down shirt, sweater, and jacket ensemble. The girl, Bea, and the brightly-dressed guy both look excited to be here, but the blond dude looks downright miserable and bored. Alex plasters a fake smile on his face when they come over, though, trying really hard to be open-minded. 

“Bea, so glad you could make it,” June gushes, giving her a hug. 

“Thanks for inviting us,” Bea says. Her accent is very British. Alex can’t remember the last time he heard one in person. She turns to Alex with a smile on her face. “You must be Alex. June’s told me so much about you.” 

He extends a hand and she shakes it. “Yeah, same here. Thanks for coming out––I really appreciate it.” 

“Of course. This is our friend, Pez,” she says, gesturing to the vibrantly-dressed man. 

With a smile, Pez extends a hand. “Short for Percy,” he explains. “Pezza works, too.”

“Cool, I’m Alex,” Alex replies, shaking his hand.

“And this is my brother Henry,” Bea finishes, gesturing to the blond guy with the offended look on his face. 

Alex reaches his hand out but Henry doesn’t take it. Instead, he looks at Alex’s hand as if it’s slighted him. 

“Interesting crowd,” Henry says, eyeing Alex. 

Alex draws his lips into a thin line to keep himself from talking. 

“I’m Nora,” Nora says from behind him, stepping forward with a wave.

Alex lets them chat for a moment while he turns around to get some signs for all of them. When he comes back, they’re all smiling and talking, apart from Henry who remains silent and bitter. Alex swallows down his annoyance and passes out the signs. Pez and Bea each take one eagerly, but Henry refuses him. 

“I hope you’re good at chanting,” Alex laughs, hoping that his joke might get Henry to liven up a bit. 

Henry raises an eyebrow at him. “What for?” 

Alex shifts on his feet uncomfortably. “This is a protest,” he says. “So you either chant or carry a sign or both.”

Henry looks down at the sign then takes a step back. “I’m good, thank you.” 

Alex looks over at June who bites her lip nervously, obviously seeing that he’s getting annoyed. “So why are you here if you don’t want to protest?” 

Henry stares at him for a moment, obviously taken aback. “Is there some sort of law that says I have to hold a sign in order to protest?”

Alex furrows his brow. “You a hawk, man? Is that what this is? We’re trying to make _change_ here, okay? You’re either with us or you’re not.”

Henry continues to look at him with a heated gaze, probably hating Alex as much as he hates him. “Do tell me,” he starts, his vowels round and soft, “how exactly your little college protest is going to change anything.” 

Alex lets his hands clench into fists around the remaining signs, but he doesn’t dare throw a punch. He’s not really a violent person, especially at fucking peace protests, but Henry is trying his patience. He hands the rest of the signs to Nora. 

“Y’all go startup. I’ll come find you in a bit. I have to check in with the rest of the club.” 

He turns on his heel to leave, figuring that no one will follow him, but Nora does. She has to jog a bit to catch up to his fast, anxious strides. He keeps walking, even though he knows that she’s following him, because he needs to put as much distance as he can between himself and that insufferable Henry. It’s too much for him to handle right now with everything else going on in his life––with schoolwork and the SDS and Liam and everything else. These protests are his place to just focus on the big, important issues that threaten the lives of Americans every day. These protests are his way to make himself feel like he’s actually doing something useful. That he has a _purpose_.

Nora, seemingly growing impatient with him, puts a hand on his shoulder, forcing him to turn back and face her. “We both know you don’t have to meet with the rest of the club,” she scolds, “so what are you doing?” 

He rolls his eyes and, for a moment, considers just making something up. But Nora knows him too well for him to get away with much. He takes a deep breath. “I just needed to get away, okay? He’s––it’s a lot. I don’t need his bad vibes shitting on all my hard work.” 

She smiles understandingly. “Yeah, he came off a bit––”

“Dickish? Hawk-like?” 

“I was gonna say rude, but sure.”

He reaches into his jacket pocket and reveals a joint and his lighter. “Wanna ease the pain?” 

She laughs like he’s stupid but nods anyway. “Fine, but then you need to get back out there. Don’t pay attention to him, okay? Everyone else is here to support you and this fight.” 

The protest runs smoothly, despite a certain stupid British guy with blond hair. Alex continues to drown himself in schoolwork so he doesn’t let himself get too upset over Nixon’s stupid swearing-in ceremony and speech. He lets himself vent to Liam about it, but only because they’re watching it together. 

"Right,” Alex huffs from their sofa, " _peacemaker_. Who writes this shit for him? Guy wouldn’t know peace if it bit him on the ass.” 

The comment makes Liam chuckle, but he doesn’t really say much else. Liam tries to stay as far away from this sort of thing as he can, so Alex is just grateful that he’s watching this with him in the first place. It’s hard for them to find common ground sometimes since Liam prefers to keep himself far away from even a hint of anything political, so it makes Alex inexplicably joyful that he’s here with him, watching Nixon’s stupid fucking speech. It helps Alex to know that someone’s listening to his snarky side comments about word choice and false promises, even if Liam doesn’t really care or know what’s going on. 

It’s comforting to have Liam beside him. He just hopes that doesn’t have to change.

* * *

When June comes to him about a party, Alex is in. It’s the Beatles’ last live performance which, obviously, isn’t happening in America, but they need to celebrate their epic reign. Apparently, it’s June’s music friend, Bea, that scores them the invite for some big musician party in the city with whichever artists are in town at the time. So, of course, Alex is more than excited to go. 

“Henry’s going to be there, too,” June tells him. 

But even that drag won’t stop Alex from being stoked for the event, even if Liam decides he doesn’t want to come. Alex is upset at first, of course, but understands because Liam wants to spend time with his boyfriend instead of going to a stupid party. Maybe, if Alex had someone like that in his life, he wouldn’t feel the need to go either. But, as it stands, he’s horny and single and ready to fucking party with whoever has alcohol or weed and wants to keep the good times rolling. So, if these music people are offering a good time, Alex is going to be there and, who knows? Maybe he’ll get to meet some of the people he’s been looking up to––maybe even Robert Plant or something.

“That’s fine,” Alex shrugs, already rummaging through his closet to find something appropriate to wear. He’s never been to a party like this before. Is he supposed to dress like he normally would for something at, like, NYU or is he supposed to dress nicer? He wishes there was some sort of list he could look at for reference––Things To Avoid Wearing at Wild Musician Parties on New York City Rooftops. “What are we supposed to wear?” 

June, who’s sitting on his bed and flipping through this week’s issue of _Vogue_ , shrugs at him without looking up. “I don’t know, Alex. Clothes?” 

He rolls his eyes and goes deeper into his tiny, cramped closet in hopes of finding some magical piece of clothing that will reveal what he should wear. But all of this clothing looks wrong––too bland or too wild. What kind of people are going to be there? What’s the vibe gonna be? Alex feels lost. 

“What’s Bea wearing?” 

“No idea.” 

“Aren’t girls supposed to talk about that sort of thing? Compare notes or something?”

June raises an eyebrow at him. “Why are you so nervous? It’s just a party.” 

Alex glares at a denim collared shirt hanging in his closet, hoping that his glare might transform it into something amazing. It doesn’t work. “I just wanna look good,” he shrugs. 

Honestly, he doesn’t _know_ why he’s so stressed about this fucking party. June’s right––it’s _just_ a party. He goes to parties all the time. He got wasted off his ass for the first time when he was fifteen. Not only is he used to parties––he’s the _life_ of the party. Maybe that’s why he feels so nervous, though. With his school “friends”, he’s used to walking in and automatically knowing his place there. He’s the brainy, sexy one who can hold his liquor and make things fun. With these people, though, he has no idea where he’ll fit in. He’s not a musician and he’s not famous, so where does that leave him? Will anyone want to talk to him? Will everyone think he’s weird? Maybe they’ll all think that he’s some sort of lame groupie who doesn’t really fit in with this crowd. 

“Hey,” June says, setting her magazine aside, “if you’re rattled, you don’t have to go. Seriously, Alex, this is just supposed to be fun.” 

He sighs and sits down next to her on the bed, putting his head in his hands. “Yeah, I know,” he admits. “I just––I really want this night to be fun, you know? I’m, like, this giant ball of stress right now and I really need a night to forget about the fucking draft and Nixon and everything else going on.” 

She rubs his back thoughtfully as she nods along. June knows him well enough to know how he gets sometimes when he’s stressed about stuff. Normally, he’s just stressed about schoolwork and that stress goes away after he finishes a paper or aces a test. But right now, there’s nothing that can get rid of all of this anxiety bubbling up inside of him. He’s got schoolwork on top of SDS stuff on top of the looming unknown that comes after he graduates. And that might include getting drafted which, honestly, is his biggest fucking fear. 

Sometimes, he thinks that all of the stuff he’s doing isn’t even worth it. It feels like he’s just racing towards a finish line that gets further away with each step. He’s exhausted and his feet are covered in blisters, and he knows that he should just give up at some point, but he _can’t_. Because, through it all, there’s that promise of some sort of happy ending for him and the rest of the world––one that he truly believes he can help everyone get to. So he works himself to death learning everything he can in school while organizing protests and marches and rallies to show whoever’s listening that the world _can_ change, that it _should_ change, and that he’s one of the people that wants to fight for it. 

Sometimes, though, he thinks all of this might fucking kill him before he gets there. 

“It _will_ be fun,” June promises him. “They’ll all love you and you’ll have a great time with your friends. If it’s really bothering you that much, I can just pick out something for you to wear.” 

He nods and watches as she gets off the bed and moves over to his closet, rifling through his clothes to find something she deems suitable for the occasion. 

By the time he actually gets to the party, he’s already tipsy but feeling really good about the night that stretches in front of him. The rooftop is probably cold but he’s got whiskey warming him up from the inside, so he can’t really bring himself to be bothered. The Fab Four are playing through a record player somewhere, on full blast, and everyone is dancing and drinking under the light of the moon and the lights someone’s set up around the space. He’s wearing a great, tight-fitting patterned shirt, his snuggest bell bottoms, and that brown jacket that June always claims makes him look like a movie star. He’s got his two best friends––Nora and June––under his arms as they walk in and, honestly, he feels better right now than he has in a long time. 

“Hiya!” someone calls. 

They all look over and see Bea coming towards them with a grin on her face. She wraps the three of them in a messy hug before pulling back and looking at them. “You all look _fantastic_.” 

“Thanks, you too,” June gushes, practically drooling at Bea’s yellow dress and large, plush overcoat. 

“Thanks for inviting us,” Alex says, “this looks bitchin’.” 

Bea giggles and instantly gets into a conversation with Nora and June about some singer that’s here, so Alex removes himself from the conversation in hopes of finding more alcohol or dope. Whichever comes first, he supposes. So he wanders around the party, looking around to see if he recognizes anyone. There are a few semi-familiar faces––probably people he’s seen play as opening acts for some of the bigger groups to come through––but no one that he recognizes well enough to go say anything to. But there’s a bar set up in the corner and it’s fully-stocked with booze, so that’s where he goes. There’s a bottle of brandy that’s calling his name. 

As he pours himself a hefty drink, someone steps up beside him and starts to pour a drink of their own. 

“Alex,” the person says in a clipped tone. 

Alex glances over and sees that the other person is Henry. He rolls his eyes, grabs his drink, and instantly walks away. Tonight is going to be fun which means that there’s no room for Henry in it. Plus, he’ll probably thank himself for walking away later because he has a feeling that any conversation with that guy will lead to nothing but trouble for both of them. 

It takes him a while to find a group that he wants to join, but he finds them eventually. They’re all in a circle around a guy playing a guitar, so Alex sits down in an empty space and listens in on the conversations happening around him before he decides to jump in. He talks to the group for a while about different music while they pass a joint around. After a while, Alex is feeling sufficiently drunk and high enough to feel truly at peace with this small corner of the world he’s found himself in. He loosens up and goes off to mingle with other people there, stumbling right into the arms of a very attractive woman who claims to be a back-up singer for a band that Alex has never heard of. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he feels Henry’s heated gaze on him while he talks to the woman. So Alex kisses the girl to subtly tell Henry to fuck right off, hoping that Henry is at least a decent enough person to know that staring at people while they make out is fucking weird. But when he pulls back and looks over again, Henry’s still watching him and clutching his drink like he’s trying to strangle it. Alex brushes it off and kisses the girl again, too high to really sit back and think about Henry’s expression right now. He tells himself he’ll just tuck it away for later but he knows that he won’t remember it when he goes home tonight. 

So he loses himself in the intoxicating lips in front of him, the energy flowing through his body, and the sound of one of the best bands of all time swirling through the air instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welcome to the 60s! I hope you enjoyed the first chapter. There will be a new chapter posted every day and there will be eight chapters total. I know that doesn't seem like a lot, but a lot of the chapters are roughly ten thousand words!
> 
> I'd like to thank my lovely beta reader, @ghostangel for being fantastic and putting up with my bullshit! 
> 
> As always, I'm @bibliothesoph on tumblr. Come hit me with your questions, comments, or concerns! I love hearing from you guys. 
> 
> -biblio the rockin' soph


	2. Two (February)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nora gives Alex a special treat but a certain _someone_ might be there, too. 
> 
> **Warnings for recreational drug usage and drinking.**

[Here Comes the Sun Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3gMzoJAvUP8Em143xSC9hl?si=kcr4KmLmTp-B2pLlw6e1aA)

Alex is rolling a joint when Nora bursts into his apartment. Liam’s out with his boyfriend, so Alex was planning on taking full advantage of his free crib to get stoned out of his mind, listen to _Zeppelin_ , and not give a flying fuck about anything else. It’s a Saturday and he’s already got all of his homework done and out of the way––he deserves a nice, chill evening. It was going to be great––he was going to have fun. But Nora, it seems, has other plans for his evening. 

“I regret giving you a key,” he sighs, folding the paper.

“Get dressed,” she demands without any sort of greeting. 

He looks up at her and cocks his head to the side as he gestures to the weed and paper in his hand. “Uh, I’m a little busy. Want some?” 

She rolls her eyes and stands in front of him with her hands on her hips. “We’re going out,” she tells him. “So get dressed or whatever you have to do, and let’s get going.” 

He sets the weed and paper down on the coffee table and stares up at her, unable to fight the intrigued grin that spreads across his face. “Do I at least get to know where we’re going?” 

“Fillmore East,” she replies, sounding annoyed that he would ask such a question. 

He raises an eyebrow at that. “Who’s playing?”

“Can’t I just surprise you with something nice? I basically had to kill someone to get these tickets.” 

He stares her down, hellbent on winning this little standoff. “Tickets for what?” 

She stares at him again with that flash of annoyance in her eyes before she relents, digs into her back pocket, and produces two concert tickets. He jumps up off the couch to grab them to see what they’re for. As soon as Alex sees the name on them, he can’t help but let out a very high-pitched scream as he starts jumping up and down like a child on Christmas morning. 

“You got _Zeppelin_ tickets? Dude, Nora, this is––how?” 

For some reason, he feels tears spring to his eyes. He pushes them back, knowing that crying at concert tickets is literally the lamest reason to cry, but he really can’t help it. He brings Nora in for a bone-crushing hug, no longer upset that she just uprooted his entire evening plans for this. 

“Bea got them for me,” she explains. “She’ll be there, too.”

Alex grins, honestly not really caring much about how the tickets came to be in their possession. The important thing is that they have the tickets and that they’re going to see _Led_ fucking _Zeppelin_ tonight. Alex thinks that this might already be the best night of his fucking life––he can’t remember the last time he was this excited for something. So he gives Nora a giant hug before he disappears into his room to change into something more appropriate for the concert. In the back of his mind, he can’t help but wonder if they’ll be able to go backstage. Since Bea got the tickets and she seems to know everyone in the music business here in New York, he thinks that it might be a possibility. If there _is_ a possibility of going backstage, he definitely wants to look his best in case he gets to meet any of the members of the band. 

Nora brings a flask of whiskey to take with them, and then they’re off. Since it’s less than a mile away and it’s one of the warmest nights of the month, they decide to walk. The sky is clear and dark above them, and the whiskey warms them up as they walk down familiar streets. By the time they get to the venue, Alex is practically jumping up and down. There’s a massive crowd outside waiting to get in, and the energy radiating from them has Alex even more excited than before. He follows Nora as she navigates through the crowd, probably looking for Bea. When they find her, Alex nearly freezes. 

It’s not just Bea here tonight, it seems. 

Fucking _Henry_ is with her, too. 

Alex growls at the sight of his stupid blond hair and his stupid fancy clothes. It’s not fair that Henry’s here––this was supposed to be a _good_ night. Now Alex wonders if he’ll even be able to enjoy the music with Henry here as a part of their group. 

“Play nice,” Nora whispers under her breath. 

Alex rolls his eyes.

“Good to see you again,” Bea grins. “Alex, I hear you’re a real fan of the band?” 

Alex nods. “Yeah, they’re my favorite right now. This is so far out, I swear.”

Bea smiles at him. He wonders how she got all the niceness. “Fantastic. Well, we have great seats––right up front.”

Bea gestures for them to follow her in. Somehow, Alex ends up next to Henry in their little formation as they shuffle past the line and to the front where, it seems, Bea’s name gets them in instantly. Even though they have tickets, it looks like Bea is a big enough deal to get them past the line where they would have to actually _show_ them. Alex can’t help but grin a little bit as they pass the horde of people giving them dirty looks. With all this special treatment, he feels a little bit like he’s famous. 

“I didn’t know you liked _Zeppelin_ ,” Alex mumbles to Henry. 

“I don’t,” Henry says, his posture straightening automatically. “I’m just here for Bea.” 

“Figures,” Alex chuckles, “you gotta have a soul to love rock ‘n roll.”

Henry doesn’t say anything, but Alex notices as he tenses more––his shoulder hunch and his jaw sets. Honestly, Alex doesn’t care that Henry’s uncomfortable. It makes him feel better, for some reason, to see Henry so out of his element. A fish out of water, it seems. Does it make him a terrible person to feel happiness at the sight of Henry’s stiffened posture and nervous eyes? Maybe, but he can’t really bring himself to be all too bothered about it in this moment. 

As promised, their seats are right in the front. They’re so close to the stage that, when the band finally comes out, Alex feels little droplets of spit land on his face. To some people, that might be gross or something, but it’s pure fucking heaven for Alex. To be this close to the band he’s completely fallen in love with over the past few days is something out of a dream––a reality he never thought he’d get to live in. Even if Henry is next to him, looking awkward as ever, Alex is having the time of his 

fucking _life_. Nothing can ruin this natural high he’s found himself in right now, not even the way Henry is staring at him while he shakes his hips and whoops as the band finishes a song.

As they move seamlessly into the next one, Alex can’t help but just pause for a moment to look up at them. These newfound heroes standing and playing only a few feet away from him, looking like they’re having the time of their life. The image set before him makes his heart swell in his chest and his blood thrum in his eardrums. If he could capture any moment to tuck into his heart and mind forever, it would be this one. The crowd roaring behind him, the band in full swing, sweet music filling up the space like some sort of fucking angelic chorus. These are his people––this is his night. And it’s the best feeling in the world to know that he’s exactly where he’s supposed to be. 

When the concert ends, the high is still there. It sticks with him through dark hallways as he follows Bea and some large, terrifying man dressed in black to go backstage. It fills him completely and heightens every feeling he’s having right now––excitement, awe, wonder, bliss. When they’re let into a back room marked “private,” Alex feels like he might throw up from the nerves. He’s about to meet his favorite band in the best city in the world after the best night of his fucking life. He can’t help but wonder if, if someone pinched him, he would wake up and realize that this was all some sort of dream or an amazing trip. But no one pinches him and the band is on the other side of the door with a crew of groupies lounging around with them. And they take one look at Alex and his misfit group––an SDS stoner, a statistics junkie, a rising star, and a square––and they welcome them inside with open arms. 

* * *

The _Led Zeppelin_ concert, it seems, was his last hurrah before his classes decided to figure out how they could kill him. It’s been a busy two weeks of papers, tests, pop quizzes, and presentations. He’s been holed up in the library or his room for what feels like a majority of his days as he pores over books and papers in an attempt to finish all of his work before his professors have a chance to pile more on. Human interactions are few and far between and mostly just consist of Liam coming into his room, taking the empty coffee mugs, and leaving a fresh mug in their place. With all the schoolwork he has going on, he hasn’t even had the time to think about another protest for the SDS, leaving the work and delegation to the other co-head, instead. Just for the time being, though. Just until his eyeballs stop burning. 

The problem with this work is that he doesn’t see a _point_ to it. It’s all well and good to learn about how to write or about the government, but nothing he’s learning feels like it will help make a difference. All he wants to do is graduate and get out in the world to start making change happen, but these professors are cramming his head full of useless facts. It makes him so angry, sometimes, that he’s still a student. He knows that a degree will open more doors for him and keeps him from getting drafted, but it’s not enough in the moment. He can arrange all the protests he wants or ace every single test, but it still won’t really _do_ anything to make the world a better place. And that’s all he wants to do, really––leave the world better than how he found it.

It’s ten o’clock on a Thursday night when someone knocks on his door. At first, he thinks it might just be Liam here with another cup of coffee or something, but he doesn’t really recall Liam ever knocking. The coffees just kind of _appear_.

“Come in,” he says, not looking up from the chunky textbook he’s pouring over right now. 

The door creaks open and then closes again. There’s the familiar sound of footsteps on the floorboards, but they sound too light to be Liam’s. 

“When was the last time you showered?” 

He turns in his chair and sees June standing there with her nose wrinkled at his foul stench. He takes off his glasses and massages the bridge of his nose. “Uh, I don’t remember. What are you doing here?” 

June looks down at his unmade bed that has a box of pizza on it from a few days ago. She sighs. “I’m here to make you take a much-needed break,” she says.

“Can’t,” he says, turning back to his textbook. “Too busy.” 

She comes over to the desk and picks up the textbook, closing it and setting it aside. 

“ _Bug_ ,” he whines, reaching for it. She holds it above his head and out of reach. 

“Nope,” she says, shaking her head, “you’re taking a shower, getting dressed, and taking a break.” 

He opens his mouth to protest again but then June yanks him up, out of his seat, and marches him towards the bathroom, shoving him inside and closing the door behind him. Since he really has no choice now, he turns the shower on, strips, and hops in. As soon as the water hits him, he realizes that it really has been too long since he bathed. Normally, when he comes home from school, he spends the rest of his time studying or eating a slice of pizza while reading instead of focusing on trivial things like hygiene or health. Though he hates to admit it, the hot water feels _amazing_ against his skin. So he revels in the feeling of finally being clean again. By the time he’s satisfied, the mirror is fogged up and the entire bathroom is steamy as hell. When he opens the door to go back to his room to change, a slew of steam spills out from behind him and into the apartment. 

“It’s alive,” Liam chuckles from the sofa. 

Alex flips him off as he wanders back to his room where, it seems, June has cleaned up. His bed is made and the pizza box is gone. She’s left his desk as is, apart from removing the empty plates and coffee mugs. It’s so much cleaner, in fact, that she’s even set out clothes for him on the bed. He rolls his eyes but is secretly very happy that he doesn’t have to spend time choosing an outfit to wear. 

As it turns out, June is dragging him out of the house to go to a fucking party. It’s in an apartment he’s never been in before and there’s Bowie playing on a record player in the corner. He has no idea who this apartment belongs to or why he’s here, but he spots a counter full of alcohol and he feels like, just maybe, this might be exactly what he needed. A study break indeed. 

“Whose place is this?” he asks June as he pours them both generous amounts of vodka, mixing it with some weird juice in an open carton. 

“Someone Bea knows from her music,” she says. 

“You really like her, huh?” 

He wonders _how_ June likes her. Should he be treating Bea like someone that’s dating his sister? Should he treat her like one of his sister’s friends? They seem pretty close, but he feels like June would probably tell him if the two of them were a thing. They tell each other everything, especially since they both moved to New York. 

“She’s cool,” June says nonchalantly. 

Alex stares at her for a moment, wondering if there’s some sort of body language that might give her away, but he doesn’t see anything out of the ordinary. He follows her eyes, though, which are not focused on the drinks, and finds her looking at Nora who just so happens to be making her way over to them. She finds her place next to June, slinging an arm around her shoulder and bringing her in for a sideways hug. Alex smiles and hands June the drink, fully confident that June would tell him if she was seeing someone. 

“Alejandro,” Nora grins, obviously a few drinks in, “so good of you to join us.” 

Alex taps his drink against hers and takes a long sip, loving the feeling of the vodka burning its way down his throat. It’s cheap stuff, but it’ll get the job done. He probably should have grabbed something to eat on the way here, he thinks, but it’s too late now. 

There are a bunch of posters on the wall of various musicians and a bunch of Polaroids taped to the doors. The smell of incense hangs in the air and the lighting is low and nice. It’s a pretty big place, too.

He spots Henry in the corner, dressed in some sort of fitted collared shirt and nice-ass pants. He growls at the sight of him. “He always dresses like he’s gonna be fucking photographed or some shit,” he mumbles. 

“Obviously,” Nora says. 

Alex raises an eyebrow. “Why obviously? Because he’s an asshole?” 

June shoots Nora a look that Alex can’t quite decipher, but Nora ignores it and continues. “Because they’re rich,” she explains as if Alex should have somehow known this. “Like, _really_ rich.”

Alex blinks back at her, confused. He looks over at Henry who’s in the corner talking to Pez. He’s wearing what he always wears––a collared shirt, nice pants, and a jacket. Does his clothing give him away? Alex sort of thought that he just liked to dress like a pompous asshole, not because he was actually loaded. But, now that he _really_ looks at him, he can see it. His hair is always so nicely styled like he’s on his way from some sort of photoshoot––the kind of hair that’s probably only attainable by using really nice products. And his clothing doesn’t look cool or like it’s from a cheap, second-hand shop––it’s probably designer or something. And then there’s that accent which is definitely posh––the kind Alex has only heard in movies about rich British people. 

“How?” he asks. It seems like an important question. 

“Arthur Fox,” Nora says. 

Alex cocks his head to the side. “Huh?” 

She rolls her eyes and gestures to Henry. “He’s Arthur Fox’s kid.”

For a moment, Alex doesn’t know who she’s talking about.

She rolls her eyes again. “He’s a _movie_ star,” she explains. “ _On the Waterfront_? _A Streetcar Named Desire_? Any of that ring a bell, Alex?” 

And it _does_. It’s a face he’s seen on countless posters at the theater. It’s a world-famous face and, of course, a world-famous death. Cancer. He was young, too. Still in his prime and predicted to be one of the most awarded actors yet. But Arthur’s American or, at least, he always had an American accent in movies. It doesn’t make sense that Henry and Bea could be his kids––they don’t exactly look like they’re the kids of someone so famous. Arthur Fox was not only a great actor, but a guy that stole the hearts of millions around the world. A heartthrob––extremely handsome. And when he looks at Henry, he doesn’t see a movie star. He sees disinterest in the world around him. Henry looks bored and bland like everyone’s below him or something. It makes Alex want to punch him in his stupid face. 

Punching people, he thinks, would be very counterproductive to his message of peace. 

“I don’t get it,” he admits, taking another sip. “How is _Henry_ related to a movie star? To Arthur Fox, of all people? And wasn’t he American, anyway?” 

“Nope,” Nora says, “British. He just faked the accent for certain roles.”

Alex is still troubled by this news, but he can’t really figure out why. “Whatever,” he huffs. He goes to take another sip of his drink but finds it, somehow, empty already. He pours himself another one as June and Nora walk off to find Bea to talk about whatever it is girls talk about, so Alex goes off to find someone interesting to talk to. For a moment, he considers talking to Henry. Maybe he should ask him about his dad or something, just to see if it’s true. If it’s a lie, though, and he asks him, it means Nora will win. 

So he doesn’t. Instead, he finds people on the floor passing something around and joins them. When he sits down with the group, he sees that they’re passing around a bong. Eager to try some, he quickly accepts it when it’s passed over to him and takes a long inhale, letting the familiar feeling of smoke flow through his body. He closes his eyes, embracing the feeling, before passing it along to the next person. For a moment, he listens in on the conversation happening around him––a debate about venues in the city––while he waits for the high to hit him. When it does, he feels like he’s floating on clouds. 

The feeling carries him up to his feet and to the center of the room where people are dancing. He sways to the music, too high to really care much about how he looks, and closes his eyes while he moves his hips. This is exactly the kind of break he needed––good music, good company, good weed. 

Nora comes by with another round of vodka and, after downing the cup, things go very hazy for a while. He plays some sort of game with people––something that involves drinking––and then he migrates back over to the little bong circle in the corner. After that, he just notices the cool air on his face and a voice telling him that he’s safe. He grins at it and hugs the person for protecting him from harm. 

When he wakes up, he feels like he’s been hit by a truck. He groans as he tries to adjust to the harsh morning light and is instantly hit with a wave of what smells like bacon. Normally, he’d probably find the scent amazing and satisfying, but today it makes him want to throw up. With another groan, he turns and sees an alarm clock blinking at him––one that tells him it’s ten in the morning. Fuck, he’s already missed a class. He hops out of bed and realizes that he’s in nothing but his underwear and, more importantly, that this isn’t his apartment. 

“Fuck,” he mumbles, looking around. There’s nothing very distinctive about the place. It’s tidy and small with a chair in the corner of the room and a desk against one of the walls. There are _Beatles_ posters up on the walls, but not much else. There’s a hook with a leash on the door. It can’t be Bea’s place, then, because he doesn’t think she has a dog. It’s not June and Nora’s apartment, either. Okay, so where the fuck is he? Who brought him here? Did he have sex last night? Fuck, he can’t remember much. Why did he have to _drink_ so much? Why did he have to _smoke_ so much? Fuck, he’s an idiot. He’s a complete fucking moron. 

He finds what looks like his clothing on the chair. Well, as it turns out, only the bell bottoms are his. He puts them on but can’t find his shirt, so he just stumbles out of the bedroom shirtless, hoping that whoever lives here doesn’t mind. Odds are that he had sex with them the night before, so he figures it’ll be fine. 

“Morning,” a familiar voice says. 

It’s deep. 

He looks up and sees fucking _Henry_ standing at the stove with Pez by his side. Henry’s staring at him like he’s personally offended that Alex is here. 

Alex turns red. “What am I doing here?” he asks. 

Henry raises an eyebrow. “You don’t recall?” 

There’s a dog smelling Alex’s feet. 

What kind of alternate dimension has he stepped into? 

He shakes his head, unable to speak. This is so fucking weird. 

“Nora and June were asleep on the sofa,” Henry explains, “and you were in no state to get yourself home. I asked you where you live but you wouldn’t tell me.”

Pez scoffs and Alex shoots him a glare. “ _What_?” Alex demands, folding his arms against his chest. 

“You told us that the city was your home,” Pez laughs, “and then you stripped down to your underwear and starting screaming something in Spanish.” 

Alex winces.

“I think you were calling us your bitches,” Pez continues, “but you weren’t exactly…lucid.” 

Alex isn’t sure who he’d like to set on fire first––himself, Pez, or Henry? At least the dog is nice, though, even if it’s licking his feet like a weirdo. 

“It was the highlight of my night,” Henry adds.

Alex groans and slides into a spot at the small table by the kitchen area, burying his face in his hands. “Fuck,” he says, “I’m sorry y’all had to see that. And deal with me like that.” 

Pez puts a plate in front of him––it’s filled with eggs and bacon. “Just eat, darling. You’ll be okay.” 

Alex shakes his head and gets up from the table. “I should get going,” he says. He turns towards the door but remembers that he’s not wearing a shirt or any shoes. He turns back around. “Uh, where did my shirt go? And my shoes?” 

“You threw your shoes into the river,” Henry tells him. “You said something about protesting while you did, but I’m not sure why or what you hoped to gain from it. And you threw up on your shirt, so I put it in the wash. It should be out of the dryer in a few minutes.” 

“Could I, uh, borrow stuff? I’ve got class.” 

Henry nods. “Of course,” he says, moving towards the room Alex came out of. “Follow me.” 

Alex follows him through the doorway and into the room he slept in which is, apparently, _Henry’s_ room. The thought makes him sick to his stomach, he thinks, or maybe it’s his completely destroyed liver acting up. Either way, he feels like he might throw up. 

“Where did, uh…” he pauses, rubbing at the back of his neck, “Where did you sleep?” 

Henry turns, hunched over a dresser, and frowns at him. “The sofa,” he says. “Why?” 

Alex sighs in relief. “No reason.” 

Henry shrugs and digs through a drawer, producing a collared shirt. It’s boring and white and is definitely going to be way too big on Alex to be comfortable, but he takes it since he can’t go outside shirtless. He throws it on and scowls. As if Henry can read his mind, he produces a pair of sneakers for Alex to wear, too. They look nothing like something Henry would wear, though. 

“Someone left them here,” he says, “so I don’t mind if you keep them. They look small enough to fit you.” 

Alex rolls his eyes but slides them on. “I’m gonna go,” he says, not offering a suitable goodbye or even a wave before he turns, walks out of Henry’s room, and then storms out of the apartment. 

As he struggles to figure out where he is and how to get home, he catches a whiff of Henry’s scent––clean linens and grass. For a moment, he’s so fucking confused––how can someone smell like both? It’s all over him now and completely filling up his senses. He makes a note to take a long, punishing shower when he gets home to wash the stench off. Maybe, if he’s still feeling particularly angry about the whole thing, he’ll even burn Henry’s shirt. But the shoes are, apparently, not Henry’s. It makes Alex wonder who would have left them at his apartment since shoes seem like a weird thing to leave at someone else’s place. What kind of friend leaves their shoes and walks home barefoot? Henry must have some weird friends. 

Eventually, Alex makes it home. When he gets to his building, he’s freezing and miserable, but the promise of making hot cocoa and sitting on the sofa for a few hours seems inviting. He’s missed all of his classes by now and he’s too frigid to imagine going back outside. Plus, he definitely needs to tell Liam about all of this, too. It’ll be good to have someone to laugh about Henry with and, hopefully, someone to help Alex work through the massive amount of shame he feels right now for last night’s drunken actions that he can’t even remember. It’s really a bummer, though––he loved those shoes. It’s fine, though. He’ll get over it. 

When he enters the apartment, Liam is sitting on the couch and their small television set is playing what looks like _Bonanza_. Alex rolls his eyes and sits down next to him, automatically zeroing in on the bag of chips in his lap and taking a handful for himself. 

“You’re alive,” Liam notes, smiling slightly at the corners of his mouth, obviously amused at Alex’s messy, hungover state. 

Alex flips him off. “Fuck you,” he says, not meaning it. He pops a chip into his mouth. “Why are we watching this bullshit?” 

Liam shrugs. “It was on. You can switch it if you want.” 

Alex groans and gets off the sofa to turn the dial on the television before returning to the sofa and grunting. He puts his feet on Liam’s lap as payback. Liam rolls his eyes almost instantly when he sees that Alex has switched it over CBS news, just to see what’s going on. He feels that keeping up with the news is some sort of unspoken obligation he has as a co-head of the SDS. That being said, he reads newspapers, magazines (supplied by June), listens to the radio, and watches the television news––often all in the same day. He loves it. Liam hates it with a burning passion. 

“It’s just the weather, man,” Liam says, obviously hoping that this will make Alex change it to some other station. 

He remains rooted to the spot, snagging more chips, instead. “The weather’s important,” he argues. “I need to know when I can go outside again without feeling like I’m gonna turn into an ice statue.”

“I’m sure that’s what it is,” Liam says with a chuckle. “Definitely not just for the weather chick.” 

Alex throws a chip at him. “Shut your mouth!” he protests, laughing.

They watch the news for a few more minutes before Alex decides that he needs to take a shower to get the smell of Henry off of him. It’ll probably help with the chill in his veins, too, but not smelling like Henry’s room is his number one priority. So he goes into the bathroom and takes a long shower, assuming that he’ll just scrub his body raw and call it a day. But when he closes his eyes, allowing the feeling of the warm water to wash over him, something else comes to mind. The smell of fresh linens and grass––big hands and a lazy, lopsided smile. Broad shoulders and strong arms that send shivers down his spine. He doesn’t even realize what he’s doing until he gasps and the evidence swirls down the drain. 

He turns the water off and wraps a towel around himself before going into his room and locking the door behind him. He takes a few deep breaths as he tries to compose himself. He must still be partially drunk––that’s it. Maybe it’s some weird memory of Henry helping him get to his apartment last night. Maybe he couldn’t walk straight and Henry had to wrap an arm around his waist to keep him from falling over. That’s all it is––just a weird, hazy memory of how stupidly drunk and high he was last night. 

That’s it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoo-hoo, you read chapter two! 
> 
> As always, I would love to thank the loveliest beta anyone could ask for, @ghostangel. Thank you for putting up with me and being amazing!
> 
> Come scream at me on tumblr @bibliothesoph. 
> 
> -biblio the dopin' soph


	3. Three (March)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Liam is weirdly into space and Henry might not be as _much_ of an asshole as Alex previously thought. 
> 
> **Warnings for recreational drug use and draft threat/war mentions**

[Here Comes the Sun Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3gMzoJAvUP8Em143xSC9hl?si=hbKpBQOERGe6ozAPtjd3SQ)

March is, on average, a better month than most. It’s usually warmer than January and February have been, even if there are still some cold days, and it just so happens to be Alex’s birthday month. That means that there’s at least one day of the month where he puts, for the most part, all his work aside and hangs out with friends in the evening. Plus, warmer weather means that people are more eager to take to the streets to protest, so the SDS really gets started with a lot of different activism drives, protests, and rallies. That’s basically a birthday present in itself because more members of the group start to take charge and do their part which means that Alex has more time to focus on schoolwork and study. It’s also the month where they’ve got spring break so, needless to say, the entire month is a thrilling ride for him. 

He’s wondering if he should go home for spring break––wondering if that means he should go to California to visit his dad or Texas to visit his mom––or if he should see what his friends are doing for the break and just sort of go with whatever they’re doing. He then remembers that June and Nora have already graduated and therefore don’t have a spring break set aside this year, so maybe staying in New York and just taking the ten days for himself is what’s best. He doesn’t think he could handle seeing either of his parents alone right now, even though he loves them dearly. With graduation fast approaching, he knows that they’ll want to know what his plans are––what sort of extra schooling he’s decided to do so he doesn’t get drafted. That’s a conversation that they’ve already had too many times already and that he doesn’t feel like having again any time soon. So, yeah; maybe New York is where he should be. Plus, now that he’s friends with Bea, he’s getting invited to all sorts of rad parties with famous musicians and celebrity types. If he plays his cards right, he might even become friends with some of them. 

The first fun thing of the month is, unexpectedly, something where Henry will be in attendance. It’s a small viewing part for the Apollo 9 launch on the third, hosted in his and Liam’s crappy apartment. It was, surprisingly, Liam’s idea. Honestly, Alex hadn’t thought that Liam was keeping up with the news so he was surprised when Liam was the one to bring it up to him. 

“We should have some people over for the rocket, man,” Liam had told him. 

Alex, who had been sitting on the couch with a textbook in one hand and a notebook in the other, had cocked an eyebrow at him through his glasses. “You’re interested in the launch?”

Liam had shrugged. “It’s space, man. Space is cool.” 

So, here they are. Liam has gone, weirdly, all out for this. He got paper plates and decorations, all in a space theme. He even got a blue lava lamp to put in the corner. Alex is nicely surprised to see his roommate’s random enthusiasm for space so, ever the friend, he plays along with it. He even lets June talk him into not just inviting Bea and Pez, butHenry, too. Unfortunately, though, Bea can’t come. She’s got some sort of prior engagement––probably music-related, Alex thinks. So the party attendees will include him, Liam, Spencer, June, Nora, Pez, and Henry. And Alex is trying to convince himself that it’ll be fun instead of annoying that Henry’s going to be in his fucking apartment. He might have to clean the entire thing from top to bottom after. It’s still a bit up in the air. 

When everyone arrives, it quickly becomes clear that this will be a lot of sitting around and waiting for the space people (or whatever they’re called, Alex doesn’t care) to get their shit together. So, to be a good host, Alex offers everyone some weed. Everyone apart from Henry accepts it gratefully, and his refusal ticks Alex off for some reason. The guy is already too rigid and lame––he could do with something to relax him. Alex isn’t one for peer pressure, but Henry’s bitchy facial expression makes Alex clench his teeth and take a long hit before he passes it along. As soon as everyone but Henry smokes, it also becomes clear that Liam was only so into the space launch for Spencer’s sake. Spencer, cute as a button, won’t shut the fuck up about space. He’s going on tangents complete with crazy arm gestures and fits of giggles that make Alex think two things: one, they are a disgustingly sweet couple, and two, that he hates them for it. Because Liam looks so happy with Spencer here––so happy that he wraps an arm around him and kisses his cheek. And Alex _wants_ that. He wants someone he can laugh with and kiss and cuddle with when he’s high. So, basically, he hates them both very much for rubbing their cute-ass relationship in his fucking face. But he also loves them. A lot. Being single is complicated when your friends are in cute relationships.

It must, like, _actually_ annoy Henry, though, because he sort of just gets up and disappears. And, okay, so Alex is okay with a lot of shit. He gets that people can’t protest because they’re busy sometimes, and he gets that not everyone is as active as him in keeping up with what’s going on. But being so fucking offended by Liam and Spencer that Henry feels like he has to leave? Alex won’t fucking have it. Not with anyone, and especially not when it’s his best fucking guy friend. So he gets up and follows him blindly, not really knowing where he went but hoping that he’ll find him somewhere in the hallway. But Henry’s _not_ in the hallway. And, logically, the only other place he could be is outside. So Alex grits his teeth and goes downstairs and outside, hoping to find him there. 

He does. 

Henry is leaning against the brick wall of the building, looking up at the sky. His eyes are red and wet and Alex is so fucking pissed that seeing Spencer and Liam made him have such a fucking dramatic response. He might actually punch him. Will Bea unfriend him if he punches her brother? Maybe he should try to talk to him, first. Deescalate or whatever. 

“So,” Alex starts, walking towards him and shoving his hands in his pockets so he’s less tempted to punch him, “you’re homophobic?”

Henry looks at him, startled. He wipes his eyes. “What?” 

“You left when Spencer and Liam started getting cute,” he shrugs. “So.” 

Henry shakes his head. “Sorry, I didn’t even notice them, to be honest. I just…needed a moment.” 

Not completely convinced, Alex raises an eyebrow. “A moment for what?” 

Henry stares at him for a moment, clearly torn between just telling him and keeping quiet. For some reason that Alex doesn’t quite understand, he wants Henry to tell him whatever he’s got on his mind. It’s probably just the high, he thinks. It makes him kinder and more in touch with emotions, even if those emotions are Henry the Asshole’s. 

“It’s just March,” Henry offers, “as a whole. It’s…hard for me.” 

Alex feels his face soften. “Why?” 

Henry chuckles weakly. “Aren’t you nosy?” 

Alex shrugs and looks down at the cracked concrete beneath his feet. “I guess. It seems like you might need someone to talk to.” 

For a second, he thinks that he’s said the wrong thing. The way Henry looks at him––blue eyes wide and confused and, quite possibly, a bit scared––makes him feel like he should fuck right off and go back upstairs. But then Henry smiles softly from the corner of his mouth. “Thanks,” he says, finally, “but you don’t have to.”

Alex shakes his head and moves closer so they’re shoulder to shoulder against the uncomfortable brick wall. “I want to,” he assures him.

Henry takes a deep breath and Alex can feel it at the point where their shoulders connect. “It’s just…I always miss my dad,” he starts, fiddling with a ring on his finger while he speaks. “It’s constant. But it’s…it’s _harder_ in March.” He laughs weakly and wipes at his eyes again. “Sorry, I haven’t a clue why I’m actually telling you any of this.” 

Alex sighs, watching his breath float away in the cold. It’s one of the colder days in March and he wishes he had thrown on a jacket before coming out here. “Because I’m here,” Alex offers, “and I’m listening.” 

Henry nods, still obviously uncomfortable with sharing so much of himself with someone that’s basically a complete stranger. Well, maybe not a stranger––more like some sort of enemy, he supposes. And, honestly, he doesn’t get why he’s so hellbent on listening. He’s really not that high right now––the cold air sobered him up––so there’s no real excuse for him to be listening so intently and hanging on Henry’s every fucking word. And, yet…

“You don’t have to tell me,” Alex reminds him, folding his arms across his chest and kicking a piece of loose concrete, “but I’m here. If you want to. No judgment.” 

“My birthday is on the twelfth,” Henry says. 

Alex doesn’t understand what he means by that, so he just nods. “Happy birthday.” 

Henry scoffs but he sounds like he might be on the verge of tears. “I absolutely _hate_ celebrating without him. It’s––I miss him so much all of the time, but especially now. I don’t like to think about how each passing year is another year without him.” 

Alex doesn’t say anything for a moment because, honestly, he has no idea what to say in this sort of situation. He hasn’t felt a loss like this––not even when his parents got divorced and his dad moved across the country. Because, when his dad moved to California, Alex could call him. He could write to him. He can’t even begin to imagine what it might be like to not have him just a phone call away.

“I don’t know what to say, man,” Alex sighs. “That blows and I’m sorry.”

Henry nods in agreement. “Yeah,” he says, mostly to himself, “it does.”

They go back inside to watch the rest of the Apollo 9 takeoff and then sit around snacking while their highs wear off. When it’s time for everyone to go, Alex finds himself giving Henry a hug before he leaves, just wanting to make sure that he knows that Alex is happy they got to talk and that Henry opened up to him today. Henry pulls back, smiles, and leaves. Though Alex doesn’t mean to, like, _spy_ on Liam, he watches the long, meaningful kiss he and Spencer share at the door and how Spencer looks like he might cry as he runs a thumb across Liam’s cheek. 

Alex looks away, feeling like this moment is too tender for him to watch. 

* * *

He ends up staying in New York for spring break, not really seeing a point to go anywhere else. He doesn’t have friends that are going somewhere and his three closest friends––June, Nora, and Liam––are all staying in the city for work and stuff. So Alex allows himself a week to unwind and spend time with the people he loves most in this world instead of worrying about SDS stuff or schoolwork. But, two days in, he realizes that a lot of his time is actually just going to be him sitting on his ass while his friends are at their jobs. Even when it’s not actual work hours, it seems like June is always chasing down some story or another and Nora is like him in the sense that she completely loses herself in the work she’s doing when there’s a big project coming up.

But Liam has a relatively normal work schedule, so Alex decides to just hang out with him while Nora and June are doing whatever the fuck they’re doing. 

Since it’s almost dinner time and Alex is fucking starving, he goes and knocks on Liam’s door to see if he’s interested in going out for dinner––Alex’s treat. As he goes to knock on Liam’s bedroom door, the door opens and Liam stumbles out while putting a jacket on. 

Alex frowns at the sight. “You got plans or something?” 

Liam nods, looking nervous for some reason that Alex can’t quite figure out. “Spence and I are gonna see a movie,” he says. 

“Oh, cool. Can I come?” Alex asks, already doing a mental check to see how much money he has in his wallet. 

Liam frowns and bites his lip. “Uh, I was kind of hoping it could just be the two of us,” he explains, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Sorry.” 

Alex runs a hand through his curls. “Okay, so…hang out after? We can smoke and watch crap shows or something.” 

Liam presses his lips together. “I…” he begins. He scratches the back of his neck. “I was kind of planning on spending the night. With Spence.” 

Alex feels like a complete idiot. “Right,” he says, nodding. “Yeah, cool. So, uh, just to be clear…y’all don’t want to make it, like, a group thing?” 

Liam closes his eyes and shakes his head like Alex is a moron and this conversation is the most painful thing he’s ever had to endure. “We’re good, thanks, though.” 

Alex watches as Liam gets his wallet and heads out, not to be seen until the next morning. So, in his lonesome, Alex decides to watch some television while he eats ice cream, pretending that he’s not desperately alone. (Which he is. He’s miserable.) But the television makes it a little more bearable because, when he looks up, there’s at least one stupid character talking on screen and, if he closes his eyes, he can just imagine that the character is talking to _him_. He’s fine. It’s fine. 

What’s decidedly not fine, though, is the fact that Liam keeps opting to hang out with Spencer instead of Alex. Normally, Liam is really good at finding time for both his friendships and his relationship but, ever since the Apollo 9 launch, it’s like he’s actively avoiding Alex. And Alex doesn’t fucking get it. He can’t help but wonder if he did something to piss Liam off and this is just Liam’s way of getting over it or something, but, either way, it’s annoying him. If he did something, he’d like to know what it is so they can talk about it and move on––not this childish bullshit. 

But there’s never really a good time to talk about it, and, honestly, Liam doesn’t _seem_ pissed off. He seems completely normal during one of the seldom times that they hang out together, so Alex is at a loss. So Alex doesn’t bring it up and Liam doesn’t tell him if he did anything in the first place. It’ll work itself out, he thinks. Maybe Liam is just, like, hornier than usual or something.

* * *

Though Henry doesn’t invite Alex to whatever he has going on for his birthday––which, for some reason, leaves Alex feeling annoyed and offended––he’s made sure to invite the entire British crew to his own party. It is, once again, going to be held in his apartment. He’s not really going all out for it, though, unlike Liam’s weird thing with the launch. He’s planning on listening to good music in the company of good friends while eating pizza. And getting drunk. That’s also a crucial part of his plan. 

Everything’s all set up––the pizza is on the counter (fresh and piping hot), the minibar area has been set up, _Led Zeppelin_ is on full blast, and the lighting is perfect for what Alex likes to think of as “fun but not tiring” lighting. June and Nora are the first guests to arrive––before Liam, even, since he’s out with Spencer and the two are coming straight here––and are already starting in on both the pizza and some drinks. There’s a knock at the door and, when Alex goes to answer it, he sees the British crew on the other side of the door with broad smiles on their faces. Bea wraps him up in a hug and wishes him a happy birthday while Pez gives him a kiss on his cheek before asking where the drinks are. Henry, though, stands there awkwardly for a second with his hands behind his back. 

“You gonna come in?” Alex asks, gesturing to the party beginning to unfold inside the apartment. 

Henry nods and moves his hands from around his back to produce a small, gift-wrapped item in his grasp. “Happy birthday, Alex,” he says. 

Alex grins and takes the package, wondering what it could be. “Should I…?” he asks, making a tearing gesture with his hands. 

Henry cocks his head to the side before shaking it. “Later?” he asks. 

Alex nods and puts a hand around Henry’s back to guide him inside so he can close the door, locking the rest of the world outside of the crappy apartment. For now, these are the only people that matter. This is the only moment he cares about. Six idiots drinking and eating pizza in a crappy apartment while they wait for the two other members of their group to get here. Alex’s heart swells in his chest at a simple realization––he has _friends_ now. 

A few moments later, Liam and Spencer arrive. Spencer wraps Alex in a hug and wishes him a happy birthday, but Liam hangs back and goes to his room. Maybe it’s the alcohol talking, but Alex has had _enough_ of this shit.

“I’ll…be right back,” he tells the group, his eyes narrowed in on the closed door to Liam’s room. 

Everyone silently watches as he gets up and walks across the room to Liam’s door. He contemplates knocking for a second but then decides that, since he pays most of the rent, he has every right to just barge in. So he does.

When he gets inside, he sees Liam sitting on his bed with his head in his hands. He’s not crying––Liam doesn’t usually cry––but he looks upset for sure. Angry, maybe. Alex slams the door, making Liam jump and look up at him. 

“What the fuck?” Alex asks, arms crossed. 

Liam rolls his eyes. “Alex––”

“No,” Alex snaps, not allowing himself to stand for any more of this bullshit. “You don’t get to avoid me anymore. I thought we were, like, _okay_ by the end of break, but…what’s your fucking problem with me?”

He taps his foot anxiously while he waits for Liam to respond. Liam swallows and shifts his position so he’s facing Alex head-on. “I don’t have a problem with you,” he says. 

“Bullshit,” Alex says. He takes a step closer to him. “Can you stop acting like a butt-hurt kid for, like, two seconds and actually have an adult conversation with me?” 

“Alex––”

“If you say you don’t have a problem with me one more fucking time, I’m gonna lose my shit. Seriously, man. If you have something––”

“I got drafted!” Liam practically yells. “Okay? I got…I got _drafted_.”

Alex feels like he’s just been slapped in the face. 

The world is spinning around him.

His heart is thrumming in his ears. 

He leans back against the wall for support, but his vision is going blurry. He doesn’t know if it’s from the anger or the tears, but everything is hazy and it feels like someone just kicked him in the stomach.

 _Drafted_. 

It was never supposed to be Liam. Any time he talked about it with his family, it was always the fear that _he_ would be drafted, not Liam. They had that conversation on the couch after winter break, but it didn’t seem _real_ . Liam was never supposed to get drafted––this was never supposed to actually _happen_ to one of them. It was something they fought against for the families and relationships torn apart by it, but never for _them_. It was never supposed to be _personal_. But Liam is standing before him, tears in his eyes, and he’s been drafted. And Alex remembers that conversation on the couch on that January day. Liam said that, if he got drafted, he would go. He didn’t deserve to stay home while other people had to go and fight in this stupid war that no one really wants to be involved with in the first place. 

But the reality of it is, apparently, that Liam is drafted. And he’s going to go. And Alex feels like his heart is breaking in two.

Liam’s hands are on his shoulders, grounding him. Alex takes a sharp breath and tries to focus on Liam’s steady gaze––on the brown swirls in his eyes.

“Hey,” Liam says, voice soft, “it’s gonna be okay.” 

Alex swallows a lump in his throat. Clenches his fists by his sides. “You’re––You’re gonna go, aren’t you?”

Liam closes his eyes, sighs, and then nods. “Yeah,” he admits. “I am.”

Alex is already shaking his head. “You can’t––You can’t just _leave_. And why didn’t you…” it all clicks into place. “You told Spencer, didn’t you?” 

Liam nods again. 

Alex lets out a choked sob. Liam’s grip tightens on his shoulders. “Why didn’t…why didn’t you tell me?” It’s the smallest his voice has ever been.

Liam’s thumb comes up and wipes away the falling tears on his cheeks. “I wanted to,” he whispers. “Fuck, Alex, I wanted to tell you. But every time I got close to saying it…I couldn’t. Not to you.”

Alex cocks his head to the side. “Why?” 

Liam scoffs. “You damn well know why.”

Alex opens his mouth to say something––to ask again––but Liam’s lips are on his.

At first, Alex wants to shove him off. Liam has a boyfriend. Alex isn’t…

But Liam’s lips are rough and, somehow, exactly like Alex had imagined they’d be. So he grabs a fistful of Liam’s hair and kisses him back––kisses him _harder_. Liam pulls back after a moment. They’re both out of breath. 

Alex’s hands are still tangled in Liam’s hair. 

“ _Why_?” Alex asks again. 

Liam smiles softly in the minimal space between them. “I couldn’t go without doing that,” he admits.

“But Spencer––”

“Spencer knows,” Liam says. “He knows that I’ve…that I didn’t think I could leave without doing that once. Just once.” 

Alex nods, unsure of what to say. He wipes at his eyes and Liam takes a step back to let him fix his hair. “Do they know?” he asks, gesturing to the door and the people on the other side of it. 

Liam shoves his hands in his pockets. “No. I wouldn’t tell them without telling you first.” 

Alex smiles weakly. “Right. Yeah. I––You know I’m not…”

“Gay?” 

Alex nods.

Liam laughs and ruffles up his hair. Alex grimaces and tries to pat it down again. “Just a one-time thing,” Liam tells him. “All out of my system now.” 

Alex rolls his eyes and then wraps his arms around Liam, bringing him into a big hug. Liam melts into it instantly, resting his head on top of Alex’s. 

There’s a knock at the door. 

On instinct, Alex pulls back and nearly jumps two feet to get away from Liam. 

The door opens and it’s Spencer with a shy smile on his face, a hand in one of his pockets. “Everything okay in here?” he asks, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him. 

Alex looks to Liam to answer. 

“Yeah,” Liam says, wrapping an arm around Spencer’s waist.

Spencer smiles and leans into the touch. “You get it out of your system?”

Liam chuckles. “Yeah, think so. It got Alex to shut up, too. If only we had known sooner.”

Heat spreads to Alex’s cheeks but he’s too wrapped up in his own thoughts to talk.

“Should we go back to the party?” Liam asks, looking at him. “Or do you need another minute?”

Alex shakes his head. “No, I…” he sighs. “Can you tell them?” 

Liam raises an eyebrow. 

“Like, now?” Alex adds. 

Liam looks over to Spencer who shrugs. “Are you sure? I don’t want to ruin your party.”

“You’re not,” Alex assures him. “I––I want to celebrate you before you go. And we both know I’m shit with secrets.” 

They all laugh at that and Liam nods in agreement. Then they head out the party where everyone is sitting in awkward silence, probably having heard at least snippets of the conversation through the thin walls. Alex assumes that everyone heard Liam yell that he was drafted, so he goes in there figuring that they already know. Henry’s eyes, specifically, are focused on him. His face is pale, eyes blue and wide. Alex doesn’t know where to sit amongst the group, but there’s an open seat next to Henry, so he sits there. Henry’s hand instantly makes its way to his shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze while Liam awkwardly goes up in front of the group and explains the situation. 

It’s a lot of tears, a lot of hugs, and Alex is emotionally drained by the end of it all. He decides to go on a walk to clear his head a bit. June and Nora are deep in a conversation with Liam about all of the ways he could get out of it, and Bea and Pez are talking to Spencer. So, when Alex gets up and tells everyone that he’ll be back, Henry gets up, too. Alex welcomes the company and, together, the two of them leave the apartment and go outside. 

They walk in silence for a while, both still processing the information. Though Henry is still a relatively new member of the group, Alex knows that this has to be hard for him, too. So, when they end up in Washington Square Park, Alex suggests that they sit down and talk about anything––it doesn’t even have to be about Liam.

As soon as they sit down, Henry produces a gift-wrapped item from his coat. It’s the one he handed Alex earlier. With a raised eyebrow, Alex takes it and unwraps it. 

“I thought about what to get you for a while,” Henry tells him as he tears open the paper. “Surprisingly, you’re a very difficult person to get a gift for.” 

Alex chuckles and discards the wrapping paper. He finds himself staring down at a small box. Curious, he lifts the lid and finds a photograph inside. He picks it up to examine it and finds that it’s a shot that someone took backstage at the _Led Zeppelin_ concert of him and Henry touching one of the guitars while grinning like idiots. He looks up at Henry wordlessly, not even sure how he could begin to put his gratitude into words. 

“It was Bea’s idea,” Henry tells him, gesturing to the framed photograph. “Someone gave them to her to remember the concert by. I have no clue who took the photo.” 

Alex grins and pulls Henry in for a hug. 

Fresh linens and grass fill his senses. 

He pulls back, a smile still on his face. “Thank you,” he says, running his thumbs over the frame. “This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten.”

Henry smiles and shrugs. Apparently, he’s humble––who knew? “I thought you could use something nice right now.” 

And, just like that, Alex is pulled back into his dark thoughts about Liam leaving; about how their apartment will feel so empty and how it’s entirely possible that he’ll never see Liam again. And…he can’t get air in through his lungs. He takes a deep breath but it does nothing to help him––he’s drowning in this cycle of darkness. He’s burning up. Caught in a fire he can’t escape. He was right earlier––Liam leaving will be the lighter fluid. 

“Hey,” Henry tells him, voice soft and round. His arms are on Alex somewhere––touching him and trying to keep him here and present instead of a million miles away. Instead of following Liam into Vietnam. Where will he go? What will he have to do? Will it change him? Will he survive? Will he even want to come home and see him after everything? 

“ _Hey_ ,” Henry tells him again. 

Alex meets his gaze and takes a deep breath again. This one seems to work a bit better.

“I’m sorry if I made you spiral,” Henry says.

Alex shakes his head, finds Henry’s hand, and squeezes it. “I was already spiraling,” he admits with a weak attempt at a chuckle. “But you being here…it helps.” 

Henry smiles softly. “I’m glad.”

Alex puts his head on Henry’s shoulder and wraps his arms around him, happy to have someone here to ground him.

When he’s like this––completely surrounded in Henry’s warmth and the smell of fresh linens and grass––he thinks that, just maybe, things might actually be okay someday.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Next chapter will be up tomorrow. 
> 
> A huge thank-you to the lovely [Ghostangel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostangel/pseuds/ghostangel) for being the best beta! Cheers!
> 
> Come scream at me on [tumblr](https://bibliothesoph.tumblr.com/) I love hearing from you guys :) 
> 
> -biblio the sad soph


	4. Four (April)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex and Henry are, somehow, friends now. Alex wants to kiss him, though, which...complicates things.
> 
> The art at the bottom of this chapter is by the lovely [Punchsomeoneforme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Punchsomeoneforme/pseuds/Punchsomeoneforme)!

[Here Comes the Sun Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3gMzoJAvUP8Em143xSC9hl?si=NQIxLcX2TlKKY1u-OqfKUA)

Alex closes the door and instantly falls against it as he tries to take deep breaths. It’s empty in here now––Liam is officially gone. His stuff is still here because Alex hopes that, somehow, keeping Liam’s stuff here means that he’ll come back one day. Maybe it’ll be like nothing even happened at all. Maybe Liam will be the same person he’s known and loved his whole life. It seems so unlikely right now, of course, because there’s no telling how long he’ll be away or if he’ll come back at all. Alex is trying not to think about it, though. Instead, he pulls out a bottle of whiskey and doesn’t even bother with a glass––just goes straight to the bottle. It’s a lazy Saturday afternoon and he doesn’t have anything planned for the day. So he decides to allow himself to be miserable. 

He flops down on the couch and turns the television on, just to see if there’s anything that will catch his eye and help distract him for a bit. _Bonanza_ starts playing and Alex groans, shutting the television off again. It reminds him of Liam––about the time he accused him of watching the news just to see the weather girl. That reminds him of his kiss with Liam which, of course, reminds him of the thing he’s very purposefully shoved to the side while he spent his last days with him. 

His sexuality. 

It’s not something he wants to think about right now or, probably, _ever_ . It’s just like how he doesn’t want to think of Liam’s lips and how they were rough and scruffy because he hadn’t shaved in a few days. It’s like how he doesn’t want to think about Liam’s big hands around him and, of course, all of the other places they could have been on him. It’s like how he doesn’t want to think about Henry, of all people, and his fucking smell that Alex is pretty sure has been burned into his nostrils permanently by now. He just doesn’t want to think about any of it. So he doesn’t. He totally _doesn’t_ think about Henry’s stupid smile and his blue eyes and the way that Henry seems to actually care for him now, somehow. He doesn’t think about how Henry can make him feel better even when he feels like he’s hit rock bottom.

Instead, he takes another swig of whiskey and puts on a record–– _If You Can Believe Your Eyes and Ears_ . It’s _The Mama’s & The Papa’s _. 

His guiltiest pleasure for when he’s feeling like this. The record is hidden in a _Jimi Hendrix_ sleeve because he refuses to let anyone find out about this. It works, though. Just like he predicted. When “Monday, Monday,” starts playing, Alex closes his eyes and lets the sweet melody and the perfectly-blended voices lull him into a calm that he desperately needed. It’s easier to breathe with them singing to him and, of course, with the whiskey in his hand. 

There’s a knock on the door. 

Part of him wants to pretend that he’s not home right now, but whoever it is can probably hear that he’s playing music and, since it’s most likely June or Nora, they know that it’s _him_ playing music because Liam is officially gone. So he groans and gets up, setting the whiskey down on the table before he goes to answer the door. When he does, he finds Henry standing there with a sad smile on his face and a big bag in one hand. 

“What are you doing here?” Alex asks, eyeing the bag. 

Henry holds it out to him. “I brought you all of the essentials,” he says.

Raising an eyebrow, Alex takes the bag and gestures for Henry to come in. Once he’s inside, Alex closes the door and sets the bag down on the kitchen table. Henry immediately goes over to it and starts pulling out all of the crap he’d shoved in there.

“Firstly, trashy magazines,” Henry says, pulling some out and setting them down on the table. “Alcohol, obviously,” he says, pulling out another bottle of whiskey which Alex will definitely become acquainted with later. “Crisps,” Henry says, pulling out a bag of chips. “A stuffed teddy bear,” he says, putting that on the counter, too. “And, lastly, the most important item of all.” He pulls out the last item which is, weirdly, a Joni Mitchell album. 

“Joni? Really?” 

Henry raises an eyebrow at him. “Oh, I’m sorry. _The Mamas & The Papas _is fine but Joni is inexcusable?” 

Alex rolls his eyes, totally forgetting the music still pouring out of the record player. “That’s just…not my vibe. And I’m only listening to this because Liam left here, so.” 

Henry nods seriously. “I see. I’ll just hold onto this one then, shall I?”

Alex snatches the album out of his hands. “I didn’t say I didn’t want it,” he huffs, holding it protectively against his chest.

Henry chuckles and smiles at him and, for a brief moment, Alex doesn’t feel like he’s suffocating. He feels fine, actually. He feels like he might actually be able to survive this. 

Henry clears his throat and pulls at his hair awkwardly. “I should probably, er, leave you––”

“ _No_!” Alex practically yells. He takes a step back. “I mean, you can stay. If you want.” 

Henry raises an eyebrow at him. “What do _you_ want?” 

Alex looks down at his socked feet. “I want you to stay,” he mumbles, embarrassed. He looks back up at Henry. “I mean, I’m bored and lonely and you’re the only one that’s come by. So.”

Henry seems to debate this for a moment before shrugging off his coat and moving over to the couch. “I’ll stay,” he agrees, “but only if you order pizza.” 

Laughing, Alex moves to join Henry on the couch. “I can do that.”

Once the pizza arrives, they fall into easy conversation while they eat. They’re on the floor, somehow, and laughing over one of Henry’s “uni” stories that Alex finds ridiculously funny. It feels good to laugh like this again. After dropping off Liam, he got the feeling that things wouldn’t be fun for a long time––that he was sort of destined to be a lump of sadness for the foreseeable future. Somehow, Henry has pulled him out of his funk. There’s still that feeling of something missing, but he feels like Henry is helping to fill it a bit. Making it more tolerable, maybe. 

“Okay,” Henry says, trying to get his laughter under control, “does it make it better or worse that we were seeing each other?” 

Alex laughs. “What, you and the chick who called security?”

“No,” Henry says, still laughing a bit, “ _Oli._ The one who was in the fountain with me.” 

Alex freezes mid-bite. He sets his pizza down and tries to collect his thoughts because, really, he did _not_ see this coming. 

He’s known about Liam forever now. He doesn’t have a problem with it, of course, but that’s _Liam_ . Henry is…well, he and Henry are sort of friends now, aren’t they? And Alex gets that maybe Henry doesn’t want to exactly advertise his personal business, but Alex feels like he should have known somehow. Or that Henry would have told him by now or that he would have seen Henry actually with someone at a party or something. And it’s not like he’s _mad_ that Henry didn’t tell him any of this before, but he’s feeling…something. He can’t figure out what that is, exactly. 

“Those shoes,” he says, still trying to piece this together. “You said ‘someone’ left them––”

“One of my exes,” Henry explains. “Yes. He was…over a lot.”

Alex leans back, letting his pizza drop back into the box. “So you’re…?”

“Gay,” he clarifies, chuckling awkwardly. “Extremely gay.” 

Alex frowns, still not fully understanding this. Not understanding how he didn’t _know_ this. “Is that why you left England?” 

“No,” Henry says. He sighs. “Well, partly, I suppose. My family is…old-fashioned. So, when Bea wanted to come here for the music scene, I told her I would come along. It’s not like I had anything tying me to London, anyway.”

Alex swallows and, in that moment, decides that he’s not going to be mad at himself for not knowing or at Henry for not telling him. “I mean, it probably helps that you’ve got a scene of your own here, huh?” 

Henry grins. “Well, yes. That’s been nice, too.”

Alex smiles, still unsure how to proceed here. “So…anyone, uh, caught your eye? Here in New York, I mean.” 

Henry smiles back, looking a bit more comfortable now than he was a few moments ago. He shrugs and takes a bite of pizza. “Certainly lots of good prospects,” he says, “but no. Not really. Nothing…practical.” 

Alex frowns at him, wanting to dive deeper into what exactly that means. Based on the look on Henry’s face, though, Alex thinks that maybe he doesn’t want to talk about this anymore. If Henry’s uncomfortable, Alex can switch gears. They’ve already had some good breakthroughs today, anyway. Since he’s never really been good at making friends before, he doesn’t want to push his luck with Henry. Despite his initial reservations about him as a person, he’s coming to understand that Henry is more layered than he originally thought––he’s kinder and more thoughtful than Alex expected him to be. He doesn’t want to ruin their friendship already.

“Thanks for telling me,” he says.

Henry raises an eyebrow at him. 

“That you’re gay,” Alex clarifies. “I…I’m glad you trust me.”

“Of course I trust you,” Henry tells him. “I––I care about you and I want us to be friends, even though I was a complete arsehole when we first met.” 

Alex laughs. “You _were_ an asshole,” he agrees, still smiling. “Why were you such a dick in the first place?”

Henry’s eyes are bright but his smile fades ever so slightly. “Off day, I suppose.”

Alex stares at him, knowing that there’s probably more to the story than Henry’s letting on. Boundaries, though. He has to remember boundaries. Just because Henry told him that he’s gay doesn’t mean he’s going to spill every intimate detail of his life right now, even if Alex wants to know it all.

“You’re better now,” Alex says, hoping his words will make Henry smile again. 

They do. “You think?”

“Yeah,” Alex says, completely positive. “I don’t want to strangle you as much anymore.” 

Henry chuckles.

Alex is blindsided by how much he _loves_ the sound of Henry’s laugh. It’s deep and velvety––it’s like listening to his favorite song.

“As much?”

Alex shrugs, feeling his cheeks turn a bit pink. He makes a point of moving over slightly so he and Henry aren’t as close on the couch. “I mean, sometimes you’re still a pompous ass. But you’re less boring than I thought you were. So.” 

Henry rolls his eyes. “Well, thank you for such a kind compliment.” 

Alex playfully shoves his shoulder. “Fuck off.”

They laugh again and Alex can’t help but notice how, despite the fact that he just moved a few inches away, they’re suddenly close together again––their shoulders are touching. If he moved his head just so…

“I’m gonna, uh, go pee,” Alex announces, jumping up onto his feet. “Be right back.”

Without waiting for Henry to reply, Alex walks off towards the bathroom, closing and locking the door behind him. He braces himself on the counter, relying on the cool surface to keep him upright. He takes a few deep breaths, head down, as he tries to collect himself.

When he closes his eyes, he sees Henry’s bright, blue eyes and his soft, pink lips. When he closes his eyes, he can feel Henry’s hands sliding down from his shoulders to his ass, leaving this white-hot feeling with his fingertips as they trail down Alex’s body. When he closes his eyes, he can picture Henry on his knees in front of him, tugging off his jeans. He jerks his head up and looks at his reflection in the mirror, his knuckles turning white as he grips the counter for dear life.

“What are you _doing_?” he hisses at his reflection. 

It provides no real answer for him, just peers back at him with the same dark circles under his eyes and the same mussed up hair. He sucks in a shaky breath and tears a hand through his curls, hoping to somehow make sense of everything he’s feeling right now.

Maybe this is because of Liam. Maybe Liam’s kiss just has Alex feeling all over the place or something. He knows, somehow, that’s he’s just fucking fooling himself when he even thinks that. He remembers that shower he took after staying at Henry’s that one night––he remembers closing his eyes and picturing Henry’s hand on his body instead of his own.

It hits him all at once: he _likes_ Henry. Maybe not romantically, but enough to want him in the same way he used to want Nora or the handful of other girls he’s been with before. Maybe even the same way he wanted Liam, deep down. It makes him feel sick to recognize it––not because he’s ashamed, but because he has no fucking idea what to do with this information. Henry just told him that no one had really caught his eye. Out of all of the men in New York, Alex doesn’t think he’d be the one Henry would want to be with. Surely Henry can get any guy he wants, right? With his fucking blue eyes and his blond, thick hair and his perfect lips? So why would he settle for Alex? He hated him in the beginning––there’s probably no use in even fucking trying.

But what if there is? Just maybe? What if there’s some possibility that Henry actually wants him, too? Wants him like Alex wants him?

He shakes his head and stands up straight, trying to smooth down his hair with his shaking fingers. This isn’t the time or place to think about this sort of thing––he needs time to process and think about what he wants to do going forward. For now, all he has to do is get back outside and talk to his friend about literally anything but this.

* * *

The six of them go out for drinks a few nights later at some seedy bar across town that Bea says has good live music. It’s a casual thing except, of course, for Pez who is still dressed up in silks and bright colors like he does everywhere he goes. The six of them sit cramped in a small booth and talk while they drink, letting the band fade into the background. At one point, Bea gets up to go say hi to a friend she spots at the bar and, somehow, Henry ends up right next to Alex––their shoulders touching due to the limited booth space. Alex feels his entire face heat up with the proximity.

Suddenly, Henry’s blue eyes are on his. “You okay?”

Alex forces a nod. He doesn’t think he could manage actual words right now––not with the way Henry is looking at him. He thinks Nora sees this because she raises an eyebrow but, thankfully, says nothing about it.

By the end of the night, Bea, Pez, and Henry all take off and leave him with June and Nora so they can all finish their last round of drinks. Everyone parts with hugs but, when it’s Alex’s turn to say good-bye to Henry, he finds himself practically paralyzed. Hugging would probably be the normal, not weird thing to do given that everyone else is hugging and he just hugged Bea and Pez, but it feels weird to hug Henry now. It feels like, if he gets that close to him, his heart might just thump out of his chest altogether.

He extends his hand.

Henry looks down at it like it’s slighted him, just like he did the first time they met. For one brief, horrifying moment, Alex thinks that he might have just fucked up whatever’s been going on between them recently. Thankfully, Henry shakes his hand.

“We still on for tomorrow?” Henry asks. 

Alex nods. “Yup. We’ll figure out a time and place.”

Henry shoots him one last smile before he turns and leaves with Bea and Pez. As soon as they go, June announces that she’s going to the bathroom and that, when she comes back, the three of them can leave, too. 

“You two have been getting close,” Nora says. Alex rolls his eyes and finishes his drink, wanting desperately to avoid this conversation and just go home. Plus, June will be back from the bathroom any second and he really doesn’t need her stumbling into this extremely awkward conversation.

“We’re friends now,” Alex tells her.

She raises a dubious eyebrow at him. “Really? That’s what you’re going with?”

Maybe it’s the alcohol, or maybe it’s the fact that Alex actually needs someone to talk to about all of this, but he opens his fucking mouth and quickly tells her everything he’s been thinking on fucking repeat for the past few weeks. Liam and Henry––how he thinks that it’s more than just friendship he’s had with both of them. Especially Henry.

Nora listens to his plight, nodding every so often to show that she’s paying attention while she sips on her cocktail. When Alex is done talking, he’s out of breath and flushed from rehashing every single thought he’s been trying to shove down for so long. It’s all out in the open now––every little secret of his.

“Look,” she sighs, pushing stray hair off her face. “We’re gonna sit down and talk about this when June isn’t about to come back, okay? I want to talk about this, though. Just…let me think it over and get back to you. Lunch tomorrow? Just us?”

Alex thinks about his plans for tomorrow––a Saturday. He and Henry have tentative plans for something tomorrow, but nothing specific or at an exact time. He figures lunch should be okay and, maybe, he can get dinner with Henry and use whatever advice Nora gives him. He nods. “Sounds good.”

June comes back from the bathroom, downs the rest of her drink, and jerks her head towards the door. Alex and Nora stand and follow her out into the chilly night, walking together as long as they can before they have to part ways.

“That was fun,” June sighs.

“You’re just saying that because you got to sit next to Pez all night,” Nora giggles.

June huffs but she’s smiling. She raises an eyebrow at Nora. “Jealous?”

“Totally,” Nora nods.

Alex rolls his eyes. “Can we please knock it off with the flirting?” he begs, really not wanting to be a third wheel tonight. If it were up to him, he’d never have to feel or see romantic emotions ever again in his life. His own are so excessive that he feels like he might explode if he has to think about romance or feelings or any of that crap for another fucking second.

“Someone’s in a bad mood,” June notes, bumping him with her shoulder. “What’s up?”

“Nothing,” Alex says, keeping his eyes on the concrete below them. “I’m just…drunk.”

“I’ve seen you wasted enough times to know when you’re drunk,” June reminds him. “Seriously––are you okay?”

He feels Nora’s eyes on him but he doesn’t know what she’s trying to say. Does she think he should just tell June? Does she think he should avoid the subject completely and forever? He has no fucking clue. “I’m just…missing Liam.”

June’s arm snakes around his shoulders, pulling him against her as she hugs him. It’s a bit of a mess, honestly, since they’re all still walking, but he appreciates the gesture and the comfort that her arms provide. Even if she doesn’t know the whole of what’s going on, it’s nice to know that she’s here for him in some way.

“I’m sorry,” she tells him.

He shrugs helplessly. “I want him to be here,” he admits. “I wish he never left in the first place. He could have gotten out of it so fucking easily. It’s not fair.”

Nora comes up on his other side, throwing an arm around him, too. “It blows,” she agrees, “but we’ll get through it.”

Alex bites his lip. “Yeah,” he says. “But will he?”

It’s a question he’s thought about a lot recently––will Liam make it out alive? Alex knows that Liam is tough as anything and certainly capable of holding his own in a multitude of situations, but this is different. Liam will be all by himself and without the comfort of anyone he knows while he’s out there fighting for something he doesn’t even believe in fighting for. Alex wishes he could hold him in his arms, just one last time, and promise that they would be the same when he came home, even if everything else changed. While the thought of Liam dying terrifies him to his core, the thought of Liam coming back but being different hurts even _more_ , he thinks. If Liam is dead, Alex knows that their last moments together were good ones. If Liam comes back and isn’t the same person…

It’s a thought for another time. Right now, he leans into the familiar touch of two of his favorite people on the planet and shuts his mind off, even just for a while.

* * *

“So,” Nora says, taking the seat across from him. They're in one of their favorite haunts––a diner by campus. June’s working now so, thankfully, it’s just the two of them. Despite everything going on, it’s easy for Alex to find comfort in good, cheap food and the familiar presence of his best friend. It feels, suddenly, like it’s been far too long since they’ve done something like this. Between schoolwork and the protests and Liam’s departure, Alex feels like he hasn’t lifted his head out of his work enough to really just enjoy life in the same way he used to.

“So,” Alex repeats, smiling as he shoves a handful of fries into his mouth.

“Should we talk about Henry?” Nora asks.

Alex shrugs, chewing. “I guess.”

He knows that they should probably talk about Henry––that they came here explicitly to talk about him. Still, he finds himself nervous. He’s had a few hours to go through everything in his head but it doesn’t feel like enough. He still feels like he’s standing on the precipice of something and he doesn’t know if falling will be good or bad––all he knows is that, once he falls, he can never come back up. It’s funny to think of this small moment, sat here in a cheap diner with Nora, as a moment that might change his life forever. It doesn’t feel big enough to hold all of the possibilities here. It feels like nothing like his first protest back in the day where, when he stood in the crowd with his sign in the air and his voice loud, he felt something slot into place in his heart. It was a feeling of belonging––a feeling of completion within himself. He thought he knew who he was back then but, now, he knows that he didn’t have the slightest fucking clue. This is a fight in its own right, he thinks, but at least, maybe, he doesn’t have to fight _himself_ anymore.

“Henry’s gay,” Nora says, recalling the facts from their conversation last night.

“Henry’s gay,” Alex repeats, nodding.

“And you’re…”

“Unsure?” Alex suggests. He clears his throat. “We used to go out and I liked that. And I’ve been with other girls and I’ve liked that, too. But now it’s like…I just can’t stop fucking _thinking_ about him. He’s always in the back of my mind like some kinda parasite or some shit.”

Nora smiles knowingly.

Alex glares at her. “What? What am I?” 

She holds up her hands in surrender. “I can’t tell you that,” she says. “You’re literally the only person that can answer that question.”

Alex frowns, leaning back against the vinyl booth. “So, like, what are we even doing here?”

“You’re supposed to talk me through it,” she says. “Tell me about your feelings and I’ll listen. If you come to a conclusion, great, but not necessary. I just think you need to say everything out loud.” 

“I already told you everything,” he argues.

She raises an eyebrow. “Oh, so you told me how you feel about Henry?”

He groans. The thing is that, even though this is annoying as hell, he knows that Nora’s got a point. He knows how he feels, deep down, and he just needs to admit it to himself. To Nora. If he says it out loud, he can process this and make it real. If he says it out loud, he’ll understand exactly why he can’t get Henry out of his mind. He just needs to say it––he needs to put all of the lists and pros and cons aside and face this inescapable and indisputable fact head-on.

“I like him,” he whispers. “I––Nora, I _really_ fucking like him.”

“ _H_ _ow_ do you like him?” she asks, leaning her elbows on the tabletop.

He rolls his eyes but plays the game. “Like I want to hear about everything in his life. Like I want to be there to help him whenever I can and talk to him about whatever random shit pops into my head.”

Nora grins. “And?”

He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath. “And I want to kiss him,” he admits. “And I want to hold him in my fucking arms like they talk about in fucking love songs. And I––I just _want_ him. Always. Even when we’re already hanging out.”

Nora sucks down the last remnants of her milkshake while grinning. “You’re in _love_ ,” she chides.

“Am not,” he huffs, folding his arms across his chest like a petulant child. “I’m just…fuck off.”

“Seriously, though,” Nora says, setting her empty milkshake glass aside. She reaches out for his hands across the table. Begrudgingly, he gives them to her. “I’m proud of you, okay? And I love and support you no matter what.”

Alex beams at her before he suddenly realizes that, in a few hours, he has to see Henry one-on-one for dinner. “How am I supposed to be around him now?”

Nora raises an eyebrow, their hands still connected across the table. “What do you mean?”

“We’re getting dinner together,” he reminds her. “I’m totally gonna screw this all up.”

Nora hums while she thinks for a moment before she gets that “ _I have a terrible idea_ ” face. “You know,” she says, smirking, “there’s a party tonight. Some guy from June’s office is throwing it in his bitchin’ apartment.”

“Okay…”

“You and Henry could come,” she offers. “Maybe you could kiss him? Then, if he isn’t into you, say you were just drunk or something and laugh about it.” 

Alex thinks about it for a second before agreeing. “Yeah. Yeah, you know what? That actually doesn’t seem like a terrible idea. He’s seen me drunk before so he _knows_ I do dumb shit. It could actually…work?”

Nora cackles in the way she does when, somehow, one of her chaotic plans seems to actually work itself out. She squeezes his hand and, when he’s smiling at her and just thankful for her friendship, she reaches over and steals the last of his fries, shoving them into her mouth before he even has a chance to say anything about it.

“It’s my payment,” she says with a mouthful of potato.

He rolls his eyes at her but, honestly, he doesn’t think he’s ever felt this fucking _good_ before and he has her to thank for that. She can take all the fries she wants. 

* * *

It’s sort of a blessing that they don’t end up alone––Alex doesn’t think he’d be able to handle Henry one-on-one right now with all of these newfound feelings fluttering around his chest. They don’t even go to the party together––they just meet each other there. Henry comes with Pez who instantly goes off to flirt with June, leaving the two of them alone by the drinks table.

“Want something to drink?” Alex asks, a can of a half-finished beer already in his hand. He’s been nervously waiting for Henry to arrive––this is already his second beer of the night.

Henry shoves his hands in his pockets. “Sure. What are the options?”

Alex studies the drinks table for a moment. “Beer or beer,” he says.

Henry laughs in a way that crinkles the corner of his eyes––for a moment, Alex is lost in it. “Beer sounds fantastic.”

With a blush already creeping up his cheeks, Alex turns and procures a beer for Henry, very pointedly not melting when their fingers brush when Henry takes the can from his hand.

“I’m gonna go, uh, mingle,” Alex says, taking another swig of beer.

Henry nods. 

Alex goes off to find Nora, already nervous out of his mind. Henry makes him too flustered to concentrate now that he knows what these feelings are. It’s too much to be around his fucking smell and his perfect hair and his blue eyes right now––the urge to kiss him is driving Alex insane. Nora will either give him good advice on how to handle his horniness or, more likely, she’ll get him too wasted to even know his own name. Either way, it solves his problem.

“Shouldn’t you be with your beau?” Nora asks when he comes up to her. She’s sitting on the sofa next to a girl with dark hair and big glasses.

“He’s not my––I just don’t know how to act around him,” he admits. He runs a shaky hand through his hair as he attempts to calm his nerves. From across the room, he sees Henry laughing with some guy with broad shoulders and at least three inches on Alex. Alex grits his teeth and drinks more beer, hopeful that the beer will help this jealousy fade away.

“Oh my _God_ ,” Nora cackles, “you need to relax, man.” She digs around her pocket and produces a joint. “Smoke this,” she says, putting it in his hand.

He nods and goes off to find a bedroom or something where he can be alone with his thoughts and the weed. What he needs is a breather––a few minutes to let his mind go completely blank before he even attempts to talk to Henry again. Since this apartment is massive, it’s easy enough for him to find a free room. He ducks inside, closing the door behind him, and sits on the edge of the bed. His hands are still shaking as he grabs the lighter from his pocket and lights up, taking a long drag of the familiar smoke. He closes his eyes as he exhales, trying to focus on his body and the way the smoke fills his lungs and sets his mind at ease. He’s about to take another hit when the door opens. Even in the dim lighting of the room, Alex can tell that it’s Henry. He knows his body well by now––the shape and smell of him that he could spot from across the street, let alone a small room.

Henry steps into the room and closes the door behind him. The only light in here is the lava lamp in the corner which paints Henry in the most beautiful blue hue. He looks like a fucking angel, Alex thinks.

“I thought I saw you come in here,” Henry smiles, still by the door. “Everything alright?”

 _No_ , Alex wants to tell him. _Please leave so I don’t try to kiss you_. 

“Fine,” Alex says, plastering on a fake smile. “Just taking a breather. Kind of sweaty out there.”

Henry laughs and moves over to the bed, sitting down next to Alex on the edge of it. The dip in the mattress shows that Henry’s sat rather close to him but Alex refuses to look his way.

“Could I?” Henry asks, his hand now in Alex’s sight. 

For a moment, Alex thinks that Henry might be asking to kiss him. He wants to scream that, yes, of course he can––that Henry can take literally anything from him and he’ll probably just be fucking grateful. But when Alex turns to look at him, Henry’s eyes are on the joint in Alex’s now-stilled hands. Alex huffs out a forced laugh and hands Henry the joint, sitting back and watching as Henry gets a firm grip on it.

“I didn’t know you smoked,” Alex remarks, smirking. 

“Only on special occasions,” Henry replies.

It seems that Henry is just full of surprises.

He takes a hit and closes his eyes before he tries to exhale and ends up coughing instead. Alex doubles over in a fit of laughter which, as soon as he can breathe again, Henry joins. They sit there for a moment, laughing like idiots on some stranger’s bed in the dim light of the blue lava lamp in the corner. They talk about trivial things for a while––the party, music, books. Henry tells some more stories of his uni days as they pass the joint between them. A few minutes later, the conversation turns deep which, Alex recognizes, is the telltale sign that the weed is working.

“I don’t think I’ll ever quite understand it,” Henry says with a sigh, fiddling with a loose thread on the blanket.

Alex has been checked out for the last few seconds so he has no idea what Henry’s talking about. “What?”

“War,” Henry explains. “Why people are so… _cruel_ sometimes.”

Alex hums in agreement. “War fucking sucks.” 

Henry bites his lip nervously.

Alex fights the urge to just take Henry’s lip between his own teeth.

“What are you going to do?”

Alex frowns, not following Henry’s strange train of thought this evening. “Keep protesting and hope something changes, I guess. There’s not much I _can_ do.” 

“No, not that. I mean…about the, what did you call it? Draft threat?”

Alex feels the blood leave his face at the mention of it. It reminds him of Liam and how he’s gone and how, even if he comes back, he might not be the same. His nerves must be pretty visible because Henry’s hand comes to rest tentatively on his knee, trying to help him relax. It makes it worse, honestly, because now Alex is not only thinking about Liam, but he’s thinking about all of the nerves being set on fire in his leg right now.

Henry quickly takes his hand back. “We don’t have to––”

Alex shakes his head. “I need to,” he admits. “It’s––I need to be able to talk about it. It’s real, you know? This whole time, I’ve _known_ it was out there but it was, like, this completely impossible thing. I was always fighting for other people––to save them from the war. It was easier, you know? I didn’t know them at all and no one I knew had been drafted. But now…”

“Now it’s real,” Henry whispers. 

Alex swallows a lump in his throat. “Now it’s real. And I’m _terrified_ , Henry. I’m scared fucking shitless.”

“Me too,” Henry admits softly. 

Alex raises a curious eyebrow. “You? Why? You can’t get drafted.”

Henry shrugs a bit. “But someone I care about could. Someone who I’ve come to think of as one of my best friends. The mere thought of losing that person to the very thing they’ve fought so hard to prevent…it makes me terribly, _terribly_ upset.”

There are no words to really describe how Alex is feeling right now. He knows a lot of words, in multiple languages, but none of them feel _big_ enough to fit all of the emotions he’s feeling. What word could possibly describe the intense adoration and awe and love filling him completely? What phrase could make Henry see that Alex is moved practically to tears by his sweet, sweet words? There aren’t any words big enough so, instead, Alex pulls him into a hug. Henry melts into it, throwing his arms around Alex and pulling him close. Alex buries his head into the crook of Henry’s neck and feels the warmth that pools there––the feeling of Henry’s skin against his cheek and the smell of him that Alex has been thinking about for weeks now. He breathes it all in and allows himself, just for a moment, to shut every other damn thing out of his head.

“I won’t leave you,” he promises, his words muffled by Henry’s neck.

Henry holds him tighter. “You’d better not,” he laughs. “Who else would I make fun of?”

Alex chuckles and feels tears prick his eyes––this is the biggest moment he’s ever had, he thinks. The most intimate and vulnerable he’s ever been with someone that wasn’t family.

They start to pull apart but the space between them hardly diminishes before Henry’s hands are on Alex’s cheeks and their lips are meeting slow and soft between them. Alex’s eyes flutter shut as he starts to kiss Henry back just for Henry to pull off. 

“Christ,” he mumbles. “I shouldn’t have done that. I––”

He makes a move to get up and off the bed but Alex pulls him back down and brackets him with his knees. Somehow, looking down on him like this makes him even _more_ beautiful. Alex hadn’t known that was possible. 

“ _Hey_ ,” Alex says, reaching down and brushing a hair off of Henry’s forehead. “I want this. I want _you_.”

That’s all it takes for Henry to surge up and meet him in another kiss––one more passionate and wild than the first. In a matter of seconds, they deepen the kiss and move their hands to touch any part of each other that they can––Alex’s hands in Henry’s hair and Henry’s hands-on Alex’s waist.

Though Alex is high, he knows that the electric pulse running through his body is all due to Henry. His lips are a drug of their own and light every single fucking nerve in Alex’s body on fire. He feels like he’s just found his life’s purpose––like this is the answer to everything. When he’s kissing Henry like this, his mind goes completely blank. He doesn’t think about Liam or the war or his homework or the impending threat of being drafted himself; all he can think of is Henry’s lips and the hard lines of his body and how, when they’re like this, nothing else in the stupid world seems to matter.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, they kissed! Finally! Thank you for all of the lovely comments––I love you all!
> 
> Thank you to the amazing [Punchsomeoneforme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Punchsomeoneforme/pseuds/Punchsomeoneforme) for being a fantastic artist and the wonderful [Ghostangel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostangel/pseuds/ghostangel) for being a great beta! [Here's the fantastic art on tumblr!](https://punchsomeoneforme-willyou.tumblr.com/post/631160238945517568/this-is-my-art-for-the-rwrbbigbang-the)
> 
> As always, feel free to find me on [tumblr](https://bibliothesoph.tumblr.com/). 
> 
> -biblio the smoochin' soph


	5. Five (May)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alex and Henry are together and a lot is happening––Alex's graduation, a phonecall, and a return.
> 
> **This is where it gets spicy, so warning for smut ;)**

[Here Comes the Sun Playlist](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3gMzoJAvUP8Em143xSC9hl?si=HsQTiH0OST-gRYq8UNRIQg)

Things are different now. Some things are still the same, of course––the emptiness he feels when he passes the closed door to Liam’s room, the way the spring sun feels on his cheeks, the constant fear of what happens now that he’s about to graduate––but _most_ things are different. They’re different because he’s not really alone anymore––not the way he was before. Things are different now because Henry is nearly always at his place and makes sure that Alex stays hydrated and alive while he works, because Henry decides that Alex needs to get out of the apartment more so he makes them go to strange street vendors and nice restaurants that Alex had never noticed before, and because, when it’s just the two of them alone in Alex’s apartment, Henry kisses him like he might die if he doesn’t. Henry kisses him like Alex is the fucking water that Henry has been missing for years or something. Like if they _stop_ kissing, they might explode.

It’s only been two weeks since that first clandestine kiss in that blue-lit room at that crappy party, but it’s been two _mind-blowing_ weeks. It’s been two weeks of pink cheeks and breathy laughs between kisses and the feeling of someone’s arms around him to keep him sane at night, even if those arms belong to the absolute _last_ person Alex ever intended to fall this fucking head over heels for. Two weeks with Henry feels like a lifetime but also, somehow, like five minutes. It’s like the rush he got when he went to his first protest, only this time, he doesn’t have to go home and be alone after. This time, the rush follows him to his room and to his sofa because that’s where Henry is most of the time, too.

“What should we do for dinner?” Henry asks him.

They’re on the sofa and Alex is nearly too deep in study mode to process that Henry is speaking, except for the fact that he can feel the words rumble up from Henry’s stomach where Alex’s head has currently made a home. It’s not exactly the most comfortable position because he’s holding his textbook above his face so he can read it and his arms are kind of falling asleep, but he wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

Alex shrugs. “Whatever you want.”

Henry’s fingers are in his hair and his eyes close at the feeling of it––of Henry’s long, piano-playing fingers gently carding through Alex’s unkempt curls. Henry’s turned him into a goddamn cat at this point, honestly.

“Hm,” Henry hums, still running his fingers through Alex’s hair. “Pizza?”

“Sounds good,” Alex says, opening his eyes and refocusing on the words in front of him. It’s the last chapter he needs to get done tonight––he needs to be prepared for exams. “I just need to finish this chapter.” 

Henry drops a delicate kiss onto his forehead. “I’ll go get it and bring it back,” he says. “Will you be done when I come back?” 

“Probably,” Alex mumbles, rereading the same sentence again.

There’s a shift in the sofa as Henry gets up to get the pizza. Alex softly grumbles to himself as he sits up so he can finish reading, disappointed that Henry’s lap is no longer a viable pillow option. He hears the door open and close again which means that Henry is officially gone. Alex takes a deep breath and scrubs a hand over his face, trying to make himself concentrate on the words in front of him. He gets a solid five minutes of reading in before the phone rings.

Figuring it’s probably June or Nora, he gets up to answer it at a glacial pace. When he picks up the phone, he’s already getting ready to tell them that he can’t really talk right now, but the other end of the call has way too much static for it to be from June or Nora. Curious, he holds the phone closer to his ear to try and make out the voice of the person on the other end.

“Do you accept the charges of this collect call? Over.”

It’s a voice he doesn’t recognize––it’s a man, though. He bites his lip and nods before realizing that he probably needs to say something. “Uh, yes? And…over?”

There’s more static followed by a click.

“Hey, Alex,” a familiar drawl says over the line. “Long time, no talk, huh? Over.”

His heart thumps in his chest––his stomach drops all the way to the fucking basement. He finds himself leaning against the wall in an attempt to stay upright as tears prick his eyes. He clutches the phone closer to his ear like it gets him closer to the person on the other line.

“ _Liam_?” he cries. “Fuck I––How is this happening?” 

There’s a silence. 

“Over,” he adds.

Liam chuckles and Alex feels like his heart might actually just beat right out of his fucking chest. It’s still a lot of static, but it’s a sound he never thought he’d get to hear again––not in the same way, at least. “You always gotta say ‘over’ when you’re done,” Liam tells him. “And I’m sorry it took so long for me to call––the MARS waiting list for this is long. I’ve been on it for weeks. Over.”

Alex lets out a watery laugh and helplessly wipes his tearing eyes. “It’s just so good to hear your voice,” he admits. “How is everything? What’s been going on? Over.”

“I can’t answer any of that,” Liam says. “I’m alive, though. I think that’s about all of the information I can give you. Over.”

“Well, we all miss you here,” Alex tells him. “Especially me. Over.”

“I miss you, too. How’s everything with you? Over.”

He wraps the cord around his finger and feels a bit like a teenager talking about a silly high school crush. “I…I met someone, actually. Sort of. Over.”

“That’s great, man. Know that this line isn’t exactly private, so don’t share any _special_ details. Over.”

Alex swallows a lump in his throat and nods, knowing exactly what Liam means.

 _Don’t tell me if it’s a guy––the government is listening_.

“I can’t wait until you’re back,” Alex says, sidestepping the issue entirely. “I’ve got new music to force you to listen to. Over.”

“No offense,” Liam chuckles, “but the first thing I’m doing when I get back is having a drink. Over.”

The door to the apartment opens and Henry enters with a box of steaming pizza in his hand. He raises an eyebrow at Alex, who is still twirling the cord, as if to ask who he’s talking to.

“I’ll have something waiting for you then. Any special requests? Over.”

“Just make it something strong. Over.”

Alex smiles, imagining what it will be like when Liam comes back and they have that drink together.

“I gotta go, Alex. They’re counting me down. Over.”

Alex frowns. “Oh, okay. Well, I miss––”

The line clicks again. There’s no static this time, just silence.

“––you,” Alex whispers to himself. 

He closes his eyes and hangs up the phone, leaving his hand on it like, somehow, Liam can feel him across the earth. Like maybe Liam knows just how much Alex misses him right now and how he wishes he could be here to talk about things and listen to music and drink with him like they used to.

Henry’s hand is featherlight on his back, just in time to catch Alex as he falls apart. Sobs overtake his body and he wraps himself around Henry, trying desperately to tether himself to the earth somehow.

“It’s okay,” Henry tells him, rubbing circles on his back.

Alex buries his head in the crook of Henry’s shoulder and inhales the familiar scent there. “That was Liam,” he manages through his tears.

He feels Henry pull him closer. “Christ. Is he okay?”

Alex manages a weak nod. “He––he’s been on the waiting list for weeks and they…he only gets five minutes? It’s fucking bullshit.”

“I know,” Henry whispers. “It’ll all be okay soon, though. He’ll come back and you two can talk about everything you’ve missed while he was gone.”

“What if it’s not okay, though? What if he…what if he doesn’t come back?”

Henry’s head is on top of his own, holding him in place while he tries so desperately to comfort him. “He’ll come back,” Henry promises.

“How do you know?” 

“Because he _has_ to.”

Alex smiles into the crook of Henry’s neck before untangling himself from Henry’s grasp so he can look at his stupid, perfect, optimistic boyfriend (are they boyfriends? Alex should probably ask about that). Alex kisses his cheek softly as if to thank him for literally fucking everything. In all honesty, Alex doesn’t know what he would do without Henry here to keep him from falling apart.

“I don’t wanna be reduced to five-minute conversations with you,” Alex tells him. 

Henry raises an eyebrow. “I’m right here,” he reminds him.

Alex shakes his head and takes Henry’s hands in his own. “If I––When I get drafted, I don’t want to only have five minutes with you every few weeks.” 

“ _Alex_ ,” Henry says, his own eyes looking wet now. “It’s not a question of _when_ , it’s a question of _if_. Do you really think you will? Why have we not talked about this more?”

Alex shrugs. “I don’t know if I will. But I’m…I’m so fucking scared, H. They took Liam. What if they take me, too?” 

“I won’t let them,” Henry promises. “I’ll smuggle you back to England where we can change our names and live in a cottage somewhere.”

Alex laughs at the mental picture of Henry shipping him off in a box or something and of the two of them running away together. Alex looks up into Henry’s beautiful blue eyes and thinks of the sea that would separate them from everything happening here––of the war and the fear and the protests that aren’t doing anything. It’s a nice fantasy, he thinks. The kind of fantasy that might get him through the long, sleepless nights if he gets drafted and shipped off somewhere.

“Come on,” Alex says, tugging the two of them to his feet. “Let’s eat pizza and forget about life for a while.” 

Henry smiles that lopsided grin that Alex has come to discover is reserved for him alone and, together, they make their way over to the sofa to stuff their faces full of pizza and forget about everything else, even if it’s just for a few minutes. 

* * *

“You seem weirdly…happy,” Nora notes, sitting down across from Alex in the library where he’s asked her to meet him. They’re going over the logistics for another protest now that the weather’s constantly and consistently warm. Also, scheduling this sort of thing––the final protest of his NYU career––makes him feel a lot less nervous about graduation in the next coming weeks or, maybe, it just gives him less time to let his mind wander to such events and what may come. Henry’s pleased to see Alex invested in something that is not just the ramblings of his anxious brain, so he’s making sure to put all of his energy into the protest to keep both himself and everyone else happy.

“I _am_ happy,” he beams, pulling out his notes for what they need to get and do before the protest. He still needs to figure out an exact date, too. A weekend, he thinks. Better turn out.

“I see that,” Nora says, opening the chips she seems to have brought with her. “Why? Also, could you stop smiling? It’s kind of freaking me out.”

Alex rolls his eyes and pushes up his sleeves, hoping to get to work. “Let’s just talk protest, okay?” 

Nora snatches his notes and pulls them out of his reach. “Nuh-uh,” she chides, pointing an accusatory finger at him, “I want all of the dirty details.”

Alex makes an attempt to get his notes back but Nora is too quick, even while she shoves a handful of chips in her mouth. He huffs and leans back in his seat, fully aware that they won’t get any work done until he tells her about it. “If you tell anyone,” he warns, “I’m going to go ape-shit and you’re going to regret it, okay?” 

She nods and crosses her heart, leaning in on her elbows to get the scoop. “Lay it on me.”

“Henry and I are kind of…dating.” 

Nora squeals so loudly that a bunch of people stop what they’re doing and glare at them. Frantically, Alex attempts to shush her while shooting everyone else apologetic looks. 

“Jesus fucking Christ, Nora,” he mumbles, “can you cool it for, like, two seconds?”

Nora cackles, thankfully a bit quieter this time, and kicks him under the table. “You _dog_ ,” she grins. “Tell me everything. How’s the sex? I bet it’s good.” 

“I’m _not_ having this conversation with you,” Alex groans, running a hand down his face in exasperation.

“Oh, I get it,” she says, leaning back and putting her feet up on the table, “you two haven’t had sex yet.”

Alex narrows his eyes at her. “Can you not? Seriously, everything’s fine. It’s been, like, barely three weeks.”

She quickly takes her feet off the table and kicks him again, mouth and eyes wide. “Three _weeks_? How haven’t you told me this before? I thought I was your secret keeper––the sage one who gives you love advice!”

“There’s just been a lot going on,” he sighs, recalling the phone call with Liam. “He’s––we don’t need to have sex all the time to be a couple. Or whatever we are.”

“Do you _want_ to have sex with him?”

“Yes,” he says without hesitation. He frowns. “No? I don’t know. It’s––Like, I _know_ how it works theoretically, but the actual… _application_ is kinda freaking me out.”

Nora frowns, obviously not satisfied with his answer. “You’ve had sex with girls before,” she tells him, as if he doesn’t know that.

“Yeah, because I’m the one who––what if he wants to? I don’t––fuck, Nora, I really like him but I just don’t think I’m ready for that right now. Like, this is all still so new to me and I’m still kind of coming to terms with all of it and figuring out what it means for me as a human being and my future.” 

“Have you told him any of that?” 

He glares at her. “Obviously not.”

“I think you should,” she says, like this is the easiest fucking thing in the world. “I’m sure he’ll understand, Alex. Plus, he’s _totally_ in love with you.”

Alex feels his cheeks get hot. He notices that Nora is staring at him with this proud look in her eyes and that, while she stares at him, her gaze is far from the papers she’d snatched from him a few minutes ago. Seeing this as his window of opportunity, he quickly lunges across the table, grabs the papers, and is back on his own side before she has the chance to successfully block his advances. She growls as he gets all of the papers back in their proper order, straightening them on the table with a shit-eating grin on his face.

“Now,” he says, “let’s talk about that protest.” 

* * *

A few days later, he and Henry are sitting on the couch in Alex’s apartment. It’s a pretty lame, typical day for them. Alex has studying to do and Henry is occupying himself with his worn copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ , having just finished a reread of _Sense and Sensibility_. Alex has his glasses on––now feeling comfortable enough around Henry to wear them––and he thinks that he probably looks kind of gross from sitting on the couch all day with his books. Henry is dressed in a sensible sweater (the bastard) and jeans. It’s a normal day for them. Henry isn’t even dressed up. He hasn’t even showered today. 

And yet, Nora’s question keeps ringing in Alex’s ears. 

_Do you_ want _to have sex with him?_

It’s an undeniable fact that Alex wants to have sex with Henry. He thinks about it constantly, if he’s being honest––the press of their naked bodies, the rhythm of their hearts beating as one, the way Henry’s eyes get big and dark when he’s turned on. While Alex knows that he should be focusing on whatever textbook is currently in his lap, he can’t help but let his mind wander to the small stretch of exposed skin between Henry’s sweater and his jeans. He can’t help but allow himself to think about how he wants to put his tongue there––put his tongue everywhere on Henry’s body. He also can’t help but wonder how it might feel to have Henry’s tongue on _his_ body, too. How it would feel to have Henry’s mouth on him and driving him absolutely fucking wild.

Alex is happy that there’s a textbook in his lap to cover just how much he’s thinking about this.

“Are you okay?” Henry inquires, looking up from his book. 

It shouldn’t be hot. Alex doesn’t have a thing for British accents so the way that Henry’s voice curls around those vowels shouldn’t make his stomach do an entire fucking gymnastics routine. Henry’s hair is unkempt and wild and it shouldn’t make Alex want to pull it and yank his head back to leave a trail of kisses and bites down his throat. Henry’s sweater––a blue one––isn’t even sexy. It shouldn’t make Alex want to feel the fabric with his own fingers or slowly pull it off of his body. There’s literally nothing sexy about this moment. 

And yet…

“Fine,” Alex says. He’s positive that it’s not all that convincing. His jeans are straining. 

Henry raises an eyebrow at him, entirely unconvinced. “You look flushed,” Henry notes, frowning slightly. “Are you ill?”

Gently, Henry extends a hand and settles it on Alex’s forehead to check for a temperature. Alex yelps when Henry’s hand comes to rest on his forehead––even this is setting all of his nerves on fire.

“I’m fine,” he insists, scooting away from Henry and his stupid fucking hands.

Henry’s frown deepens. He sets his book aside. “Alex,” he presses, “what’s wrong?”

Alex looks down at his lap and at the slightly raised textbook. “Nothing. I’m fine. Just…go back to reading.”

“You don’t seem fine,” Henry notes. “You can talk to me, you know. What’s this about?” 

Alex squeezes his eyes shut and takes a deep breath. “I––I’m just thinking.”

Henry moves closer to him, adjusting his position so he’s facing Alex more. He drops his head onto the top of the couch. He looks so adorable that Alex feels like he might scream.

“Thinking about what?”

Alex huffs out a laugh and shakes his head. “Nothing important.”

“None of that,” Henry argues, one of his hands finding Alex’s on the couch cushions. He interlocks their fingers. “Tell me, darling. It seems like it might be bothering you.”

Alex takes a deep breath. He can’t hide anything from Henry for long. “I was thinking about you,” he says, earning a blush and a smile from Henry. “And I was thinking about how…I know it hasn’t been long, but I want…”

“Whatever you want,” Henry says, his voice so soft that Alex feels like he might fall apart, “it’s yours. Anything.”

“I want _you_.”

Henry stares at him. “You already have me.” 

Alex shakes his head and moves a bit closer to him, making sure to keep the textbook in his lap. “I _want_ you,” he says again. “I want to have sex with you.”

Henry’s face goes blank. For one horrifying second, Alex is terrified that he’s crossed some sort of line here––maybe Henry doesn’t want to be with him in that way. Maybe it’s too vulnerable or too soon. But then Henry’s face breaks out into a dopey grin and he pulls Alex closer, connecting their lips. Alex’s textbook drops to the floor as he moves to sit on Henry’s lap, straddling him as he deepens the kiss.

“If I had known,” Henry says, kissing his jaw, “that you were already hard,” a kiss to his neck, “I would have,” a bite to his neck, “done something,” his tongue pressing against the spot he just bit, “a lot sooner.” 

Alex groans and grinds down on him, desperately seeking friction. Henry moans in response and his hands snake around to Alex’s ass, squeezing it as the two of them move against each other. It’s not enough, though. Alex doesn’t think anything will ever be _enough_ with Henry.

“Bedroom?” Henry asks, breathless.

Alex barely manages a nod before he kisses Henry again. They melt into the kiss––the feeling of being so close to each other––for a moment before they both pull back and start the long trek to the bedroom. When they stand up, Alex is fully expecting to walk to his room and to be miserable for those brief moments where he can’t kiss Henry or touch him like he wants to. But then Henry’s hands are under his ass and lifting him up. Alex wraps his hands around Henry’s shoulders and squeezes his thighs around Henry’s waist as Henry proceeds to kiss him while carrying him to the bedroom. This is one of those moments where Alex is completely in shock––he didn’t know Henry was so fucking _strong_. He also didn’t know it would be such a fucking turn-on for him. 

“ _Fuck_ ,” Alex moans, their lips barely apart as they catch their breath.

Gently, Henry lowers Alex down onto the bed and looms over him. 

“Why are you so––you’re such a––fuck you.” 

Henry laughs in earnest, tucking a stray hair behind Alex’s ears. “And you, darling, are so fucking _beautiful_.”

Alex surges up and kisses him again, pulling Henry down so their bodies are pressed right up against each other. He’s desperate now––he wants Henry more than he’s ever wanted someone in his whole life. It’s so clear to him now, honestly. He doesn’t understand how he never knew about this part of him before Henry––the part that wanted this so fucking desperately. It feels like he’s been hiding a key part of himself all of these years, but he doesn’t have time to feel bad about it––not when he’s this hard and Henry is this fucking beautiful. 

“I haven’t done this before,” Alex tells him, feeling like he should since Henry is already unzipping his pants.

Henry stops his movements abruptly, raising an eyebrow at Alex. For a moment, Alex forgets that he just said anything at all––he’s lost in the blue of Henry’s eyes.

“Do you not want––”

“ _No_ ,” Alex says, putting a hand on Henry’s chest. He feels the soft fabric of his sweater for a second––the heartbeat pulsing underneath it. “I want to do this,” Alex tells him. “I want _you_.”

Henry grins and kisses him again. Quickly, Henry’s hands find their way to Alex’s shirt and start to pull it off. Alex sits up a bit to help and to get Henry’s sweater off, eager to see the miles of exposed skin that lie under it. As soon as their shirts are off, Alex feels his mouth water as he takes in the sight of Henry’s bare chest. He’s more in shape than Alex imagines––he finds himself yearning to trace the hard lines there and to follow the trail of dark blond hair that starts at his belly button and disappears under his waistband. But first, Alex has to kiss him again––he thinks his life might depend on it.

“Fuck,” Alex groans, taking one of Henry’s earlobes between his teeth, “how are you so _hot_?” 

Henry smiles and pulls him in for another kiss, running his hands down Alex’s chest. It feels magical to have Henry’s fingers on his bare skin––he moans and instinctually bucks his hips up in a desperate attempt to seek out more friction. Henry moves his hands from Alex’s chest to his hips, pushing him back down against the mattress so he can’t buck his hips again. Alex hisses in annoyance––he’s so hard that it hurts. Is Henry trying to torture him? Is that what this is?

“ _Touch_ me,” Alex begs, squirming as he still seeks friction. 

Henry makes a big show of putting his hands back on Alex’s chest, trailing his fingers down it. “I _am_ touching you,” he says, a smirk tugging at his lips. 

Alex rolls his eyes. “You’re a dick.”

Henry juts his hips down.

Alex bites his lip to try to hold back a moan.

With a devilish twinkle in his eye, Henry starts to unbutton and unzip Alex’s pants. Alex raises his hips to help him and, once his own pants are off, he starts in on Henry’s. A moment later, the two of them are in nothing but their underwear. Alex can see Henry’s arousal through the thin material of his boxer briefs, along with a wet spot. He looks down at the spot and then up at Henry who has nervously tugged his bottom lip between his teeth as he watches Alex look at him. 

“You want me,” Alex teases. 

Henry rolls his eyes and trails a wanton finger across Alex’s waistband, making him shiver. “Yes, you preening arse,” he breathes, dipping one piano-playing finger under the waistband. “I’ve wanted you since the moment I saw you at that bloody protest.”

Alex smiles up at him and kisses him, moaning when Henry’s finger moves down to touch the tip of Alex’s leaking cock. The touch sends a shockwave through his body––he’s never felt like this before. It’s never felt this _good_ before.

Alex starts to take Henry’s underwear off, making a big show of it. Henry smiles at him, continuing to massage the tip of Alex’s cock while Alex takes his underwear off. As soon as Henry is naked, Alex finds that he can’t move. It’s not that he doesn’t want to do this––he really, _really_ wants to do this––but he just doesn’t know _how_ to do it. What if he’s terrible? What if Henry breaks up with him because he isn’t good at this? What if Henry laughs at him? He starts to feel his stomach churn with nerves instead of desire. He feels his face pale as he takes in the sight of Henry’s long, thick, _gorgeous_ cock. It’s beautiful, certainly, but it reminds him that he has no fucking clue what he’s doing.

“Alex?” Henry asks, his voice high and nervous. 

Alex tries to shake the feeling off––tries to push it down with a kiss.

Henry pulls away. “Alex,” he says again, cupping Alex’s face with his hands and smoothing over his cheeks. “What’s wrong?” 

“Nothing,” Alex says, reaching up for another kiss. 

Henry moves his lips out of reach. “ _Alex_ ,” he presses, his face serious and concerned.

“I just don’t want to fuck it up,” Alex admits.

Henry’s eyes turn soft and loving as he runs a hand through Alex’s wild curls. “Darling,” he says, “you could never. But we can stop if you’d like. Really.”

Alex shakes his head and kisses him, using this to flip them so Henry’s back is pressed against the mattress. “I just need you to tell me if it’s awful.”

Henry nods and watches with wide, eager eyes as Alex’s lips travel down Henry’s body and to his cock. With a deep breath, Alex puts it in his mouth. It feels weird at first, different, but it’s _good_. He likes the taste of Henry here––the natural musk of him. Henry groans and his hand clenches in Alex’s hair, pulling it ever so slightly to encourage him to keep going. Alex does, bobbing his head as his lips move up and down Henry’s long shaft. He can’t fit the whole thing in his mouth––even though he wants to––so he uses his hand to touch what his mouth can’t fit. Based on the way Henry is moaning and writhing, Alex thinks that he’s doing a pretty good job for his first try at this sort of thing. 

He’s just getting into the groove of things––finding his rhythm––when Henry tugs his hair a bit harder, forcing his head up.

“I won’t last much longer,” Henry says, “and I want you to fuck me.”

“Well,” Alex says, smirking, “we can’t have that, then.”

Henry smiles and pulls him up into another kiss, his hands pulling Alex’s underwear down completely as they kiss. As soon as Alex’s cock springs free, Henry stops kissing him and looks at it, a smile tugging at his lips. 

“You’re beautiful,” Henry tells him. 

Alex rolls his eyes. “Shut up and kiss me.” 

Henry obliges, smiling into the kiss as their lips meet once more. Henry takes one of Alex’s hands in his own and guides it down to Henry’s hole, showing him that this is where he should be focusing right now. Though Alex might not have a lot of first-hand experience with this sort of thing––or any, really––he knows what to do here. Cautiously, he puts one finger into Henry’s hole, using the precome as a lubricant to ease it in. Henry’s head falls back as soon as one of Alex’s fingers enters him and a moan escapes his lips.

“More,” Henry rasps. 

Alex obliges, sticking another finger in. He fucks Henry with his fingers until Henry is begging for his cock––begging for Alex to fuck him right here and right now. Alex is more than happy to slide into him, reveling in the feeling of being _inside_ of Henry. It’s an intimacy that he’s never really felt before, even with girls.

It doesn’t take them long to come––they’ve both been on the edge for a while now. When they come, they come with each other’s names on their lips.

Alex falls back onto the bed, boneless. He curls up around Henry, resting his head on Henry’s chest. He feels his heartbeat and his breathing underneath him––grounding him. 

“Thoughts? Comments? Concerns?” Alex asks, peering up at him. 

Henry laughs and wraps an arm around him, pulling him closer and kissing the top of his head. “Yes, actually,” he says. “I’d like to request for that to happen at least three times a week, if not more. Otherwise, I think I’ll have to write a strongly worded letter to the management.” 

Alex grins. “Mm, gonna stage a protest or something?” 

“Most certainly,” Henry agrees with a nod.

They fall into a comfortable silence for a moment. A silence which, obviously, Alex feels inclined to break. “Hey, H?”

“Hm?”

“I…I really like you,” he whispers. 

Henry looks at him with a soft glint in his eyes. “I really like you, too.” 

Alex hums and closes his eyes, drifting off to sleep with the comforting sound of Henry’s heart beating in time with his own.

* * *

It’s the last day things will be like this for Alex. It’s the last day he can walk around feeling like nothing can really hurt him––not in any big way. It’s the last day that Alex is safe from the draft. It’s the day of his college graduation.

It’s warm day, which is nice, and the sun is high over New York City. There’s a certain sweetness in the air––probably the flowers in bloom––and the window of his bedroom is open to let it all in. The shutters clink with the breeze as Alex lies in bed, his head resting on Henry’s chest. Alex never really went to sleep last night because it seemed impossible at the time and then, before he knew it, the sun was shining through his window and morning had arrived. He moves his head slightly to see if Henry is awake yet but his eyes are still closed and his chest is still slowly rising and falling. Alex places a kiss to Henry’s collarbone and curls up into him, afraid of what might happen if they actually leave the warmth and comfort of the bed.

He doesn’t even know what time it is, just that, at some point, his alarm clock will go off and that he and Henry will make breakfast for the last time with Alex as a college student. The last morning where there’s no real draft threat. The last morning where the day can’t get interrupted by bad news in the mail.

His alarm goes off a few minutes later which means he gets to witnesses Henry’s blue eyes blink open and try to adjust to the morning light. Alex can’t help but kiss him while he wakes up, so in awe that he gets to be the one who witnesses Henry’s adorable morning confusion.

“Morning,” Henry tells him, smiling.

“Morning,” Alex replies, kissing his cheek, too. “Today’s the day.” 

Henry’s face instantly falls. “Christ, your graduation.”

Alex nods solemnly and tucks himself up against Henry again, refusing to leave the peace and comfort of the bed. “Let’s just skip it,” Alex suggests. “No graduating for me.”

Henry’s arms come up around him, pulling him close. “If you insist,” he sighs. “I thought you might like graduation day sex, but perhaps I was wrong.” 

“No, I want sex,” he groans. “I’m just…I feel weird today.”

“Perfectly understandable,” Henry says, kissing the top of his head. “I’m excited to see you in your cap and gown, though.”

Alex smirks. “Did I tell you my plan for that, by the way?” 

Henry shakes his head. There’s still sleep in his eyes and Alex finds it positively adorable.

“Well,” he says, running a finger up and down Henry’s bare chest, “I thought I might wear the cap and gown.” 

“I thought that was obvious.” 

“I thought I’d _just_ wear the cap and gown.” 

Henry’s eyes widen at the implications. Suddenly, Henry is kissing him deeply and rolling over so he’s got Alex pinned down on top of the mattress. They’re still naked from last night so Alex feels every inch of Henry’s bare skin cover his own. He moans at the feeling of it, then again when Henry rolls his hips so deliciously against his own.

“ _Fuck_ ,” he moans, choosing to move his lips from Henry’s face to his neck. He loves to feel the skin there under his tongue––he loves to mark Henry so Henry knows just how Alex feels about him.

They don’t have the time to finish this right now, though. Alex knows that he has to be ready soon and that he’ll need copious amounts of coffee to get through the day. Still, though, he doesn’t plan on going anywhere.

Unfortunately, Henry––ever the responsible one––must realize this, too, because he rolls off of Alex and stands up, the evidence of his arousal in plain sight. Alex wants to tell him to get his ass back on the bed so they can finish what Henry very clearly started, but he knows that he needs to get up and ready for the day. He groans in frustration and allows Henry to yank him out of bed.

“Come on, love,” Henry says, patting him firmly on the ass. “Have a shower. I’ll have breakfast ready when you’re done.” 

Henry throws a towel in his face and slips into boxers.

“Make sure there’s coffee,” Alex demands, wagging a finger at him.

“Who do you think I am?”

Alex rolls his eyes and heads off to the bathroom to shower––and finish what Henry started, even if Henry isn’t there to help––while Henry makes their breakfast for the day and, as promised, an entire pot of coffee for Alex alone.

Breakfast is a quick, rushed affair and Henry burns the eggs. Alex smiles as he eats them, pretending to love them, of course, and then they walk to campus to the ceremony. It’s a whole thing––his parents have come up for it. It’ll be the first time Henry meets his parents and, even though it’s not as his boyfriend (not _yet_ ), he feels the urge to make a good impression. He doesn’t think his parents are homophobic––he doesn’t want to believe that they would be capable of such hatred. Still, though, he’s worried about telling them someday—and about them seeing Henry and somehow just _knowing_ what’s going on. Even worse, though, is the fear that they’ll see what’s going on and not be okay with it. Henry already has his own shitty, homophobic family to worry about back in London and Alex really doesn’t want his own family to contribute to that in any way.

Henry’s hand is in his own and squeezing it as they approach the massive buildings of campus. Henry has a sixth sense when it comes to shit like this––he always knows when Alex is upset.

“You okay?”

Alex nods and flashes him a smile. He’s okay. _Really_. He’s just so nervous that he feels like he might throw up. “Yeah,” he says, unconvincingly. “I’m, uh, just nervous. About seeing my parents. About you meeting them.” 

Henry frowns in that way he does when he doesn’t fully understand how Alex’s mind works. “Darling,” he says, voice like expensive honey or liquor, “I’m just your friend today.”

Alex swallows nervously. “Yeah, I know. I just wish you didn’t have to be.”

Henry looks, for a brief moment, like he might cry. Instead, he tugs Alex’s hand and pulls them into an alleyway where, the moment they’re out of sight of any passerby, Henry kisses him swiftly. “Christ,” he says, laughing a bit as he brings their foreheads together, “how did I get so lucky?”

Alex shakes his head. Sometimes, despite Henry’s fancy degree from wherever for pompous words, he doesn’t understand how Henry’s perception of everything is so skewed. It’s not Henry that’s the lucky one––it’s Alex. Without Henry, he doesn’t even know where he’d be right now. Probably still crying, smoking too much, and drinking too much to be much of a functional human being, he thinks. Even Henry’s friendship was enough to pull his head out of his ass and make him start living again, and he doesn’t know how to put all that he’s feeling into words. He wants to tell Henry how much he adores him––how he adores literally every single fucking part of Henry. How he can’t sleep well if Henry isn’t in his arms. How the apartment feels lonely without him there, taking up space, and rambling on about gay history and reciting fucking poetry like it’s nothing. He doesn’t know how to thank Henry for saving him in every fathomable way. 

So, instead, he kisses him.

They’re late enough that Alex doesn’t have time to say hi to his parents before he has to go sit with the rest of the students, leaving Henry to fend for himself in the massive horde of teary parents, family, and friends. As he sits down with his classmates, suddenly just now feeling very self-conscious about the nudity under his gown, he looks for Henry in the crowd. It’s impossible to miss him, even with all of these people milling about. It’s not the most formal occasion––he’s wearing a collared shirt, a tie, and nice pants, and he looks like a goddamn dream as he attempts to spot June and Nora in the crowd. Alex watches as Henry finds them and, with them, his parents. He watches the handshakes and introductions and as Henry takes a seat in the spot they’ve saved for him.

There should be one more person here, he recalls. He hasn’t let himself think about it much until he sees his friends and family sitting together in the crowd. There’s one more person that should have gotten a seat––one more person that should have to sit through the long, boring ceremony. There should be a scruffy-faced, deep-voiced guy from Texas sitting up there with everyone else that Alex loves, but he’s not there. Instead, he’s oceans away and fighting in a pointless war that shouldn’t even be happening in the first place. Today, Alex’s heart goes out to him. It aches to see him in the crowd instead of picturing him in a strange land and surrounded by unfamiliar people and things. It aches for him to be home and safe.

When the ceremony is over, Alex makes a beeline out of the student section to find his family. He finds them milling about in the lobby of the building, all talking amongst each other. Henry is laughing at something with them––probably something his dad said––and Alex feels his heart skip a beat in his chest at the sight of it. It’s so stupid and mundane, but it makes him feel like everything might just come together someday. With a smile on his face and warmth blooming in his chest, he makes his way over to them.

“Mijo,” his dad says, grinning like a proud idiot. He pulls Alex in for a bone-crushing hug. Alex prays that his gown stays closed––he doesn’t need to have that awkward conversation right now. “I’m proud of you.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Alex replies. He turns to his mom who already has her arms outstretched and waiting for him.

“Who knew you actually got studying done?”

He rolls his eyes but he can’t stop smiling.

June and Nora tackle him in a hug, too, telling him that they’re proud of him. Part of him knows that they’re all proud, but the other part of him knows that they all wish they didn’t have to be here just yet––that Alex put off his graduation for a bit longer or something. It’s a bittersweet moment for all of them, he knows, but he can’t stop feeling proud of himself for making it this far. With everything that’s happened recently, especially with Liam being sent off, graduating seemed like such a hard, insurmountable task. It seemed impossible until…

He looks to Henry and smiles. He isn’t sure if they can hug––he feels like a hug might give everything away. Still, though, he doesn’t really care. He wants Henry’s arms around him and Henry’s scent to fill his lungs. He wants to hear Henry say he’s proud of him.

Henry’s smile isn’t as bright as Alex hoped it would be––it’s the melancholy undertones of this that turn his lips down ever-so-slightly at the corners. Despite the sadness here, Henry pulls Alex into his arms and hugs him. Just as Alex is melting into his touch, Henry pats him on the back––the straight guy hug. Alex isn’t expecting it––he doesn’t know what to _do_ with it. It’s his fault, though, for asking Henry to pretend. He promises himself it’ll be the last time––he just needs to tell June first. It wouldn’t be fair of him to keep her in the dark or tell her for the first time in front of his parents, especially when Nora already knows.

“How long are y’all in town?” Alex asks.

“Just the weekend,” his mom replies.

“We were hoping we could do a big dinner tonight though,” his dad says. “Something fancy.”

“Sounds good,” Alex says with a nod. “Where’s Leo?”

His mom makes a dismissive gesture with her hands. “Working. He sends his congratulations, sugar.”

They make plans to meet up later for dinner. Alex says that he wants to change and shower and that they can all meet up at the restaurant and then, if they want, everyone can come back to his apartment for drinks and ice cream. His parents are the first to leave, after they snap some pictures, and then it’s just him, Henry, June, and Nora. June remains pretty silent but her eyes are focused on him––it makes him uncomfortable. So, while Henry and Nora are talking about some trivial thing or another, Alex pulls June aside.

“You okay?” he asks.

She frowns at him but doesn’t say anything.

“You don’t have to worry about me, Bug. Graduating is supposed to be a good thing.”

She frowns deeper and folds her arms across her chest. “Why are you pretending?”

He raises an eyebrow, confused. “Pretending what?”

“That you and Henry aren’t together,” she asks.

There it is. It’s out in the open. Alex sucks in a shaky breath and runs his hands through his hair. He and Henry have talked about this––Alex wanted to tell her after his parents left and the graduation drama had died down. This isn’t supposed to be a day about him and Henry––it’s supposed to be about graduating and whatever the future has to hold. It’s not that he’s mad she knows, but he doesn’t understand why she’s upset. It’s not her place to tell him how to act in front of his parents when it comes to Henry––that’s a decision he gets to make. He made it for _her_ , anyway, so she wouldn’t feel like he had just been lying to her this whole time.

“I––Who told you?”

She rolls her eyes. “No one had to _tell_ me, Alex. I just…I kept hoping you would. I’m your older sister––I know you well enough to know how it looks when you’re in love.”

“We’re not in––”

She holds up a hand, effectively silencing him. “All I want to tell you is that I love and support you,” she says. “I like Henry and I like how you are when he’s around. You seem happier when he’s here.”

“I am,” Alex admits.

“And I think you should give mom and dad more credit. They know you, too. They probably already know exactly what’s going on. You should have seen the way dad’s entire face lit up when he met Henry.”

He feels his cheeks heat up. He looks over at Henry who is just talking to Nora and he’s suddenly hit with that wave of warmth again. It’s thrilling to see how seamlessly Henry fits into his life––how his parents and friends and sister already love him.

“Yeah?”

June smiles softly. “ _Yeah_. I’m not saying you have to tell them today––that’s obviously up to you––but I don’t think you should feel like you have to hide it. If you want him to be more than your friend today, I know we’d all be happy for you.” 

Rendered speechless by her words, Alex brings her in for a hug. “Thank you,” he whispers, holding her close. “Just…thank you.” 

* * *

When they get back to Alex’s apartment, Alex closes the door and throws Henry up against it. He keeps his lips close enough to Henry’s so that they share breath but don’t touch––just enough to tease him. His arms brace himself on the door on either side of Henry’s broad frame which is already gravitating towards Alex with the promise of what might happen. Two bodies like magnets; pulling towards each other until there’s no room left between them. 

“Hello,” Henry whispers, his voice deep and breathless at all of the possibilities. Alex is still just in the gown––nothing else. The silky fabric makes his arousal painfully obvious as he grabs a fistful of Henry’s blond hair and shoves their mouths together. It’s all teeth and tongue and desperation at first––it usually is. Alex is so worked up from seeing Henry fit in so well with his family and how effortlessly he can just make everyone like him with a simple smile. It drives Alex insane.

“ _Christ_ ,” Henry moans as Alex gets to work on his neck. He undoes Henry’s tie and undoes the first two buttons of his shirt to better expose the skin underneath––the beating pulse in Henry’s throat that Alex licks and nips like it’s a target. Henry moans again at the feeling of it. One of his hands comes up into Alex’s hair, tugging gently, and the other wraps around Alex’s waist and pulls him so they’re flush against each other. They both groan at the feeling––their arousal and excitement more than obvious at the hard point where their bodies connect. It hasn’t actually been that long since they did this––they had sex last night––but it _feels_ like it’s been too long. It feels like it’s been too long because Henry looked so fucking _good_ at graduation today––because his long, piano-playing fingers feel like fucking gold against Alex’s waist and in his hair. It’s been too long because Alex is suddenly aware of the fact that he desperately _needs_ Henry––in any way he can have him––most times of the day and night.

“Bedroom,” Alex hisses, biting down on Henry’s neck and soothing it over with his tongue. Henry manages a weak nod in agreement before kissing Alex again and roughly pushing him backward until the back of Alex’s knees collide with the arm of the sofa and they both go tumbling over it. Henry doesn’t let the tumble slow him down, though. He’s like a man on a fucking mission.

His mission right now, it seems, is to make Alex as hard as possible––until he feels like he might fucking _burst_ ––without even really fucking touching him. Alex thinks he might kill him. The grinding of Henry’s hips against his own is making Alex moan and tremble in ways that he never thought he actually _could_ moan or tremble. It makes Alex feel dirty in the best way possible because he knows that only Henry can draw such sounds from his parted, breathless lips, and only Henry can make his thighs tremble and quiver with each snap of his fully clothed hips. Alex is desperate now––he doesn’t know how much longer he’ll last.

He starts to undo all of the buttons on Henry’s stupid, useless shirt. It’s all coming off too slowly, though, and he nearly just rips the thing off him completely before Henry’s hands are on top of his––the familiar warmth of his palms on top of Alex’s knuckles. 

“ _Love_ ,” Henry coos, his eyes bright and blue and filled with want and need and something else that Alex can’t quite place, “there’s no rush.” 

Alex can’t help but huff a laugh at Henry’s remark. “No rush,” he says, his eyes dark and lustful, “yeah, right. Fuck, Henry, I _want_ you. _Now_.” 

And, well, Henry doesn’t need to be told twice. His own eyes turn dark as he takes in what Alex is saying––as the thought of how badly Alex fucking needs him sinks into his pretty head. He attaches himself to Alex’s lips again, his tongue pulsing in Alex’s mouth while one of his hands adeptly undoes Alex’s gown and lets it fall off Alex’s shoulders. Alex’s arousal has been obvious this whole time, of course, due to the lightweight, nearly transparent fabric of the gown, but it’s out in the open now: leaking and hard.

Henry, the fucking slut that he is, actually has the audacity to _lick_ his lips as he stares at Alex’s leaking cock. The sight of Henry so transfixed with Alex’s hard dick makes Alex’s eyes roll back into his head and forces a moan to escape his lips. He doesn’t understand how Henry can just _do_ this to him without even touching him. He doesn’t understand how it’s possible for someone to make him feel like every nerve in his body is on fire with a simple gesture or action. It’s insane, really, but he fucking loves it. What he loves even more, though, is when Henry’s pulsating tongue finally makes its way to Alex’s cock and takes it all in one swift motion.

“ _Fuck_ ,” Alex manages, his fists struggling to find purchase in the couch cushions. One of Henry’s hands comes up and guides Alex’s hand to his head, permitting him to grasp a hold of the soft, blond hair there. Alex does, trying to be gentle at first, but he can’t help the clench that comes when Henry starts to massage his balls with his other hand. 

“Stop,” Alex says through gritted teeth as he attempts to keep himself together. 

Henry stops immediately and his blue eyes search Alex’s like they always do whenever he thinks Alex is in trouble––it’s that damned sixth sense kicking in again. Alex shakes his head, trying to convey that he didn’t mean _stop_ like he wasn’t having a good time. 

“Won’t last,” he manages. His lungs are still trying to catch up. 

Henry’s lips pull up into a small smile. “How do you want me?”

Alex doesn’t even have to think about it––he’s been thinking about it all fucking day. “On your hands and knees, sweetheart.”

Henry complies instantly, taking off the rest of his clothing in the process. Henry’s own cock is leaking, too––practically _dripping._ Alex is in awe at the sight of it, even though he’s seen it before. He lines himself up, trying not to get too hooked on the way that Henry’s head is turned so he can see Alex as he pushes inside of him. They both let out a moan at the feeling of it––at the feeling of becoming _whole_ again. 

Alex gives himself a moment to just stay there, pushed deep inside Henry, before he starts moving. There’s something different about how they do this today––everything feels slower and more sensual. For Alex, he thinks it’s because he’s so damned terrified of the thought of having to leave Henry if he gets drafted. For Henry, he thinks, it’s because he’s so damned terrified of losing Alex to the draft. If he does have to leave, this is how he’ll remember them: sweaty, out of breath, blissed out, and completely connected in every fathomable way. With each thrust, he wants to promise that he won’t go anywhere. With each moan, he wants to tell Henry that he thinks he’s falling in love with him. With each gasp, he wants to ask the heavens to stay in this moment forever.

When they come, they come with each other’s names on their lips. 

When they come, they collapse into each other and hold onto each other with a tight, loving embrace. 

When they come, Alex feels tears gather in his eyes at the thought of losing Henry somehow to forces that are completely out of his control. 

When they come, Alex just prays that this won’t be the last time.

* * *

When Alex steps into the restaurant, his family is already seated at a large table in the back corner. Henry will be coming in a few minutes later, just to make it seem like they definitely didn’t come here together, so Alex bravely walks over to them alone. His parents make small talk for a few minutes, asking him about how exams went and such, until Henry arrives. 

“Sorry I’m late,” Henry says, taking a seat across the table from Alex. “I got a bit caught up with work.” 

Ellen waves a hand dismissively, telling him that he doesn’t need to worry about running late. “Not a problem––we’re just happy you could join us. What kind of work do you do, Henry?” 

Alex looks to Henry for an answer. He didn’t know Henry was working––he’s never heard Henry talk about his coworkers or anything.

“I’m a writer, actually,” Henry says, a proud smile on his face. “Or, well, an aspiring one, I suppose.”

“Like JC,” Oscar gushes, throwing an arm around June. “Did you and June meet in college?” 

“No, actually,” Henry says. “I went to uni in England.”

“What made you move to New York?” Ellen asks. 

Alex wonders why his parents are interrogating Henry. Do they know? Did June say something? 

“My sister is a guitarist,” Henry explains, “and heard of the great opportunities here. I decided to move with her for a change of scenery.”

“I hear that,” Oscar says, taking a sip of his wine. “And how did you and this shit head become friends?” 

Alex rolls his eyes, now regretting bringing Henry here at all.

“At a protest, actually,” Henry says. 

“He was a dick,” Alex chimes in. “But then, ya know, it turns out he isn’t so bad.” 

Henry smiles at him from across the table.

Dinner goes smoothly until they get to dessert. His parents have ordered a cake to celebrate––something delicious with chocolate and buttercream. They’re cutting it up and passing it around when the dreaded question comes.

“So, sugar,” Ellen says, passing a plate of cake to Alex, “have you met anyone?” 

Alex knows what she means by this. If he gets married and has kids, he can’t get drafted. It’s another out for him––one his parents want him to take. They ask him this constantly and he doesn’t really know what they’re expecting to hear––he feels like he’s too young to get married. And now, the person he’s seeing is someone that he can’t get married to, even if he wanted to.

“No,” Alex says, averting his eyes. “I haven’t.” 

“How about you, Henry? How are you finding the American girls?” 

Henry looks panicked for a moment before a fake smile overtakes his features. “They’re very nice,” he says. “I’m not quite ready to settle down yet, though.” 

Oscar pats Henry on the shoulder. “Man after my own heart,” he says. “Good for you, vato. Gotta play the field first.” 

“My thoughts exactly,” Henry says. He takes a sip of his wine. “There are, erm, too many women for me to possibly consider picking one.”

Alex slams his hands down on the table “ _Enough_.” 

Everyone looks at him, eyes wide.

Henry shakes his head, telling him to stop. 

Alex won’t listen. He won’t put Henry through this.

“Henry isn’t seeing any girls,” he says. “Neither am I.” 

His parents look at each other with confused eyes before turning back to him. “That’s fine, sugar. We were just wondering.”

Alex shakes his head. “No, it’s not. We’re not seeing any girls,” he repeats, “because we’re seeing each other. Henry and I are dating.” 

The table falls completely silent.

Alex waits for his parents to yell––for them to be mad at him or cast him out. 

“Well,” Oscar sighs, leaning back in his chair, “Ellen, you owe me a quarter.” 

And, just like that, everything feels normal again. They dissolve into laughter and, from across the table, Alex catches Henry’s eye. And Henry looks happier than Alex has ever seen him.

They’re out and his parents support them. 

Alex is so happy that he’s finally been able to give Henry something that he’s never had before––a family that loves and supports him completely. 

* * *

It comes when no one is expecting it. Alex and Henry are on the sofa one random, Tuesday evening, just watching the news. It’s some weird story about––well, honestly, Alex hasn’t been paying enough attention to know what––that gets interrupted with breaking news. It’s ABC and a live update of Vietnam and Alex feels his heart beat out of his chest. He’s been keeping up with everything, of course, but he’s never seen something like this since Liam got shipped out. He jolts upright, surprising Henry who was asleep on top of him only moments ago. 

“What’s––”

Alex shushes him. “‘Nam update,” he says, breathless. His eyes are focused on the man seated at a desk on the television in front of him.

“American troops in Vietnam have been fighting bitterly for nine days to take a position known as ‘Hamburger Hill,’” the newscaster explains. “Today, the tenth day, with thirty-nine Americans dead and two hundred and seventy-three injured––”

The newscaster’s words are lost on him after that. Alex feels like he might throw up––he might be sick. Henry’s hands are on his back but Alex can barely even feel them––he’s already rushing to the bathroom and dry-heaving into the toilet as his mind attempts to process this. It’s––It has to be the bloodiest battle. Ten days and so many lives on both sides lost and so many more injured. Was Liam there? Was Liam one of them? Did he see it unfold or was he collateral damage? He dry-heaves again and rests his head on the cool seat of the toilet as he attempts to catch his breath. Two hundred and seventy-three injured today alone. Was Liam one of them? Fuck, how is he supposed to know? Is he supposed to just wait for another MARS call to come through in a few weeks? What the fuck is he supposed to _do_? How can he figure this out?

Henry is trying to convince him that everything will be okay, but Alex doesn’t believe a single word. How can it be okay? They don’t know anything––there’s no way to know what’s happening. How long ago did the battle occur? Hours? Minutes? He begs for the phone not to ring––if the phone doesn’t ring, Liam is okay. If the phone doesn’t ring, there’s no reason for him to be so freaked out about this. He doesn’t want anyone to knock on the door, either. If they knock on the door, Liam is certainly dead. If they call, he’s probably dead. He doesn’t want to hear anything––he wants his ears to stop ringing.

It’s not his ears. 

It’s the phone. 

The phone is ringing.

“Alex,” Henry says, voice soft and full of concern. 

Alex shakes his head and tries to stand to get to the phone but his knees are too weak right now––he’s walking on Jello.

“I’ll get it,” Henry says, running a hand through his curls and placing a kiss in them.

Alex nods weakly and closes his eyes. 

He hears Henry leave the bathroom and then, a few seconds later, the phone stops ringing. He hears Henry’s voice in the distance but he can’t make out what he’s saying. There’s a click and then Henry is back in the bathroom. Alex looks up at him but can’t make out the expression on his face.

“Just tell me,” he croaks.

Henry crouches down. “He’s alive,” he says.

Alex’s eyes widen. “I–– _What_? Are you serious?”

Henry nods but he isn’t smiling as brightly as he should be for such great news. “He’s coming home––you’ll be able to go and see him tomorrow. He’s––he’s hurt, though.”

Alex lets out a watery laugh. “But he’s _alive_ ,” he says, fairly confident that nothing else matters. “He’s _alive_.”

* * *

Alex isn’t sure what the proper protocol is for this sort of thing. He’s got flowers in one hand and a stupid, stuffed teddy bear in the other. It’s dressed up in a cowboy hat and boots. He’s in the waiting room with Henry by his side, standing in a long line to speak to the nurse at the front desk so they can get Liam’s room number. Despite everything, all of the fear and the nightmares and the horrible, horrible waiting, Liam is back in New York. He’s back _home_. He’s alive and breathing and in a recovery room somewhere waiting to see a familiar face. Alex is bouncing on his heels, full of anxious energy.

“Almost there,” Henry whispers to him, referring to the rapidly shortening line as people are showed off in various directions. Alex wonders how many of them are here for the same reason he is––how many of them are just so fucking happy that whoever they’re waiting to see is _alive_ . It feels selfish, somehow, to be so excited that his friend is in the hospital. It’s better than never seeing him again, though––it’s better than being handed his dog tags and told that he’ll get the paperwork any day now. Liam’s not some sort of war hero––he’s a war _survivor_ . Alex just wonders if he’ll be able to really _live_ again.

Henry has to wait downstairs while Alex goes up to the fifth floor. He gives Henry a hug before he goes and then he gets in the elevator that takes him closer to seeing his best friend again and whatever the fuck comes with it. It feels like nothing else will matter once Alex gets to see him with his own two eyes. It feels like the rest of the world will snap back into place when he gets literal proof that Liam is alive and mostly okay. He has so much he wants to talk to him about and ask him about––he wonders if, now that Liam is home for good, if they can finally talk about what it was _like_ over there so Alex can be prepared if he gets his own draft notice.

The room is long and by no means private. It looks like dozens of soldiers are being kept in here, separated only by thin, white curtains between the small cots. Alex finds the cot with Liam’s name outside of it and sees that the curtains surrounding it have been pulled shut. He clears his throat and steps up to the white curtains hesitantly, still clutching the bouquet of flowers and the cowboy teddy bear.

“Knock knock,” he jokes.

There’s a cough on the other side followed by a strange stretch of silence. “I already got my medicine,” Liam’s voice says.

Alex is so relieved to hear it that he might cry. “It’s Alex, actually. Your roommate? Best friend? Ring any bells?” 

“Come in, man.”

Alex does. He pulls back the thin curtain and steps inside the fake room to see Liam tucked into white sheets, his head propped up on a crap pillow behind him. As soon as Alex sees him, it becomes very clear that Liam sustained a pretty serious injury in Vietnam: he’s missing part of his left arm––it’s been amputated right above where his wrist was. He’s got a bandage on his head, too. Alex doesn’t want to make a big deal about it––he feels like Liam _wouldn’t_ want him to make a big deal of it. So he pulls the curtain shut and holds up the objects he’s brought as hospital and welcome home gifts.

“I didn’t know what to get you,” Alex admits.

Liam smiles and reaches for the bear first so Alex hands it to him, smiling when Liam instantly pulls the stuffed creature to his chest like a child. “You can give the flowers to your special someone,” Liam offers. “Also, you can sit down on the bed if you want. I won’t bite.”

Alex laughs half-heartedly and perches on the edge of the small cot, trying to leave room for Liam’s long limbs to stay comfortable. “I’m just so happy you’re alive,” Alex says. 

Liam smiles but it doesn’t meet his eyes. “Where’s that drink you promised?”

“I didn’t think they’d let me in with it.” 

“You can bring it by whenever I find a place,” Liam says. “Think of it as a housewarming gift.”

Alex frowns. “You’re not coming back home? To our apartment?”

Was Alex foolish to think that things might stay the same? He thought Liam would come back and that they would carry on as they were before––best friends and roommates. It’s fine if Liam wants to move in with Spencer, he supposes, but he’s not really getting that vibe from the way Liam’s eyes look big and sad and lonely.

“Didn’t want to assume you’d want me back.” 

“Of course I want you back,” Alex argues, sort of offended Liam would ever think otherwise. “You’re my best friend and I’ve missed the fucking shit out of you.”

Liam’s still frowning. “It’s not like it was with the World War II guys,” Liam explains. “We’re not heroes––we don’t get thanked for our service.”

“What do you mean?” 

Liam shifts in the bed and the scratchy sheets make noise while he gets more comfortable. “They brought us in on a bus. We went through downtown and we were all cryin’ and on these stretchers, but we could see everyone walking around and doing normal stuff. They were all staring at the bus and I didn’t know what to do––I wanted to say something to them but I didn’t know what. I kind of waved at ‘em, just a bit. It was with my bad hand and it was all bloody and just kind of flopped around. And the people outside just…they screamed at us. Flipped us off. Spat at us. We’re not heroes or survivors to them, even if we just got drafted. We’re the villains.”

Alex doesn’t realize he’s crying until Liam finishes and holds the bear tighter to his chest. He reaches out across the cot and holds out his hand for his friend to let him know that he doesn’t see it the way everyone else does––that he sees Liam as the same, strong, whiskey-sipping, no-nonsense guy he’s always been. Liam smiles softly, though it still doesn’t quite reach his eyes, and takes Alex’s hand in his own. Alex squeezes it a bit to try and convey all of his emotions without speaking because he doesn’t really know how to put them into words just yet.

“I never understood why you protested,” Liam admits. “I wanted to support you but I just…I didn’t get it. I do now, though. When I get outta here, I wanna go on the streets with you. I don’t want anyone else to go through what I went through.”

Alex squeezes his hand again. “Maybe you can give me some pointers later,” he laughs. “Just in case.” 

Liam pulls him a bit and it catches Alex off guard. “ _No_ ,” Liam tells him. “You’re not fucking going there. No one should have to go there. Especially not you.”

“Especially not _you_ ,” Alex corrects, meaning it. If he could have, he would have traded places with Liam in an instant. He would have swapped lives if it meant Liam didn’t have to go through all of this––if Liam got to stay behind and live a normal life. All Alex has ever wanted for his friend is for him to be happy. He’s always tried to carve out a space for Liam because Liam didn’t have a family as accepting as Alex’s and he never got the love and support he deserved. Liam is too good for this kind of shit––he’s too good to be some kind of government pawn.

It should have been Alex, not Liam.

It still might _be_ Alex.

“Enough with the sappy shit,” Liam says, chuckling a bit.

Alex rolls his eyes. “Fine, but I’m giving you, like, a five-minute hug when you come home. When are they letting you leave, anyway?”

Liam shrugs. “Soon, I think. Next few days. They wanna make sure everything’s healing up okay and brief me on what to expect when I readjust to civilian life.”

“Civilian,” Alex says, waggling his eyebrows, “that’s a big word for you.”

Liam laughs and it _nearly_ reaches his eyes this time. “Fuck off.”

“Can you call me when you get more information? I’ll bring you home.”

Liam nods and salutes. “Yes, Sir.”

Alex rolls his eyes.

Fuck, he’s missed him so much.

Liam kicks him. “Now get outta here,” he says. “I wanna take a nap with the cowboy bear and you gotta get back to your fella downstairs.”

Alex raises an eyebrow and opens his mouth but Liam cuts him off.

“Just a guess. Tell Henry I say hi.”

Alex gives his hand a final squeeze before he heads out of the room, down the hallway, and back downstairs. He feels lighter than he did before he came here. He feels like, in spite of everything, things might just be okay. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Only three chapters left :(
> 
> A huge thank you to [punchsomeoneforme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Punchsomeoneforme/pseuds/Punchsomeoneforme) for being an incredible artist and [ghostangel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostangel/pseuds/ghostangel) for being an incredible beta!
> 
> As always, find me on [tumblr](https://bibliothesoph.tumblr.com/).
> 
> -biblio the hungry soph


	6. Six (June)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miscommunication leads to devastation. Alex is in the wrong place at the wrong time. 
> 
> **Warning for violence. I tried to make it as mild as possible, but it's Stonewall so it's there.**

[Here Comes the Sun](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3gMzoJAvUP8Em143xSC9hl?si=1YBjBimOQOOdhdpQqiG2rQ)

“That’s it,” Alex says, guiding Liam up the stairs by his elbow. Liam’s hand is tight on the rail as he slowly creeps up the stairs with Alex on his other side, holding him by his elbow to support him. His legs are fine––a bit roughed up––but the past week in a hospital bed has made him a little shaky with walking. 

“Quit babying me, Diaz,” Liam huffs, out of breath from the stairs.

Alex has Liam’s bag on one shoulder and it’s heavier than he expected but he’s not about to complain. As soon as they get to the top of the stairs, Alex keeps one arm on Liam as he knocks on the door, knowing that Henry is on the other side to welcome them home before he takes off to go see Pez and Bea for a bit. It was already decided that he would be here to let them in and to see if Liam needed anything they didn’t already have for him here and, of course, so Alex can feel a bit more like this is just another normal day. So, when they get inside, Henry is already there and waiting for them.

“Welcome home,” Henry beams, pulling Liam in for a hug. 

Liam grins and hugs him back, wrapping both arms around him. “Good to be back. Glad you were here to keep him company while I was gone. What was our agreed price for babysitting him?”

Alex feels his face pale. 

Liam nudges his shoulder. “I’m kidding, man,” he says, eyes brighter than Alex has seen them since he got home.

Henry’s arm wraps around Alex’s waist and he places a gentle kiss to Alex’s cheek before nuzzling against his shoulder. Alex smiles and melts into it, placing a kiss on Henry’s head. “There isn’t enough money in the world, darling,” Henry hums.

Alex rolls his eyes. “Fuck you.”

Liam smiles at the two of them. It’s the first time that he’s seen Alex and Henry together like this and, based on the light in his eyes, Alex thinks that Liam thinks it’s a good look for them.

“Y’all are cute,” he notes.

“Someone had to be the cute couple while you were away,” Alex offers. He instantly regrets saying it when he sees Liam’s face fall. They haven’t talked about Spencer or what this time apart means for them as a couple––Alex hasn’t seen Spencer in months. He feels like the world’s biggest jackass for bringing it up. 

“Well,” Henry says, trying to break through the awkwardness, “I should get going. I’ll see you soon, though?”

Liam nods. Alex turns his head and kisses Henry quickly before Henry leaves the apartment, shutting the door behind him. As soon as he’s gone, Alex turns to Liam with nervous, regretful eyes. 

“I’m so sorry,” he says, hoping his voice conveys how guilty he feels about his comment.

Liam’s tired eyes find his and he shakes his head. “It’s fine. Really. I think I’m just gonna go rest, okay?”

Alex nods and follows Liam to his room, dropping Liam’s bag on the floor by the door. On the bedside table, he and Henry have already set up a some water, Tylenol, and some snacks. Alex plans on waiting on Liam hand and foot now that he’s not in school and has a lot of free time, but he understands if Liam doesn’t want him to be around the whole time. He shows Liam into his room which has been cleaned since he left.

“Looks nice in here,” Liam notes, sitting down on the bed.

Alex folds his arms across his chest and leans on the doorframe, watching his friend get reacquainted with his room. He can’t begin to imagine everything that Liam must feel right now––fear, anxiety, relief? 

“If you need anything, just holler,” Alex says. “But I can, uh, leave you for now. If you want.”

Liam nods softly, his head low.

Alex knows this to mean that he’s going to cry the moment Alex leaves the room.

“I can stay,” he offers, his voice barely a whisper and cracking in the middle. He doesn’t want Liam to feel like he has to do this by himself––he wants Liam to know that he’s here for him for everything. He’s here for the smiles and the tears and everything in-between.

“I––Not right now. I just need to be on my own for a bit.”

Alex nods even though he doesn’t really understand. If Liam would just let him stay, Alex could actually be  _ there  _ for him. He could sit down on Liam’s little bed and hold him while he processes all of these complicated emotions about (finally) coming home again. But Liam’s eyes are tired and sad and Alex doesn’t want to push him. So, with a heavy heart, Alex leaves and closes the door behind him. The moment he does, he hears Liam’s sobs from the other side. He stands there for a moment, his hand lingering on the knob, before he turns and locks himself away in his own room to try and drown out the sound of Liam’s tears. 

* * *

It doesn’t feel normal with Liam, but it feels a lot better than it did the first day. He’s been here for three days now and he’s doing semi-normal Liam activities like watching stupid television shows and drinking whiskey. He’s still quieter than normal, and more reserved, but he seems like he’s doing okay. He doesn’t talk about Vietnam and what happened there––he changes the channel if it comes up. He never mentions his hand or tells Alex what happened to it––he usually just shoves it into his pocket.

Alex hasn’t left the apartment once in all of this and he doesn’t plan on leaving for a while. He and Henry did a big grocery run before Liam came home so Alex could have enough stuff at the apartment to keep them both happy and fed. They order food in the evenings––Liam gets to pick where it’s from. June usually brings it over and says a quick hello to the two of them before she goes off to do whatever she’s been up to while Alex has been here. So far, Liam has requested a pizza and a burger. Tonight, he wants Chinese. It’s from the spot nearby that they both love––the place with the spicy noodles. Alex called June about it a little while ago and she agreed to pick it up and drop it off for them so Alex doesn’t have to even leave the house.

He also lets Liam pick what they watch. Tonight’s show is  _ Mod Squad _ . Alex hates it, but it makes Liam crack a smile every so often.

There’s a knock on the door––June must be here with the food.

“I’ll get it,” Alex says, already getting off the couch. 

He makes his way to the door and opens it, expecting to thank June quickly, grab the food, and return to the couch. But when he opens the door, he finds that it’s Henry there instead.

“Oh,” Alex says, taken aback by the sight of him, “it’s you.” 

“Yes,” Henry says, “and I come bearing gifts of food.” He holds up the two bags and starts to step into the apartment but Alex closes the door a bit, not letting him in. Henry frowns. “Can’t I come in? I ordered some extra noodles for myself––I thought we could all hang out.” 

Alex looks back to the couch where Liam is still engrossed in the world of  _ Mod Squad _ . He shakes his head. “Not tonight,” he says. “I’m just––he’s just starting to come back. Even a bit. I don’t know what’ll happen if I add someone else into the mix, ya know?”

Henry’s frown deepens. “Is he not doing well? Do you need anything?”

Alex shakes his head. “He’s fine and we’re good. Thanks for the food,” he says, trying to grab it from Henry’s hand. 

Henry pulls it just out of his reach. “I miss you.”

“Yeah,” Alex sighs, growing a bit impatient, “I miss you, too. I really should get back in there, though.”

Henry hands him the food. “Of course. I’ll come by tomorrow, then? Maybe take you to lunch?”

“I should really stay with Liam,” Alex admits. “Another time, though. Night, H.” 

He closes the door and hustles back over to the couch, dropping the food down on the coffee table and opening the bags. 

“Are you okay?” Alex asks, turning to Liam. “Do you need anything? More water?”

“I’m good,” Liam says. “That June?”

“Henry, actually,” Alex chuckles. He opens a container of noodles and they hiss steam in his face. He passes it to Liam. “I think he thought we could all have dinner together or something.”

“Why didn’t you invite him in?” 

“Because you’re––it’s only been three days since you got home. I just want everything to settle down a bit before we have random people come in here.” 

Liam’s eyes narrow at him. “He’s not a random person,” he argues. “He’s your  _ boyfriend _ .”

Alex rolls his eyes and breaks his chopsticks apart. “You know what I mean. I just want to keep it chill in here, ya know? Just for now.” 

Even though Liam doesn’t seem too convinced, he drops it. They eat their noodles and watch  _ Mod Squad _ together until Liam is yawning and wants to go to bed. They go to bed in their respective rooms, even though Alex knows he’ll end up in Liam’s room sooner or later. 

Later is a lot sooner than he expects. It’s only been an hour since they said goodnight and Alex is just about to turn off the light and put his book away when he hears Liam scream. He’s used to this by now––the nightmares. He throws off his covers and slips into Liam’s room, sitting on the edge of his bed and running a hand through his hair. 

“You’re okay,” Alex tells him, his voice soft and gentle. “It’s just a dream. You’re okay. You’re safe. You’re in New York.”

Liam blinks and sits up a bit, but Alex continues to run his fingers through his hair and try to talk him down. 

“Alex?” Liam asks. 

Alex nods. “You’re safe,” he says again. “You’re okay. I’m here.”

Liam nods, still looking a bit disoriented. It breaks Alex’s heart to see him like this––to see him scared in their own home. There’s nowhere that’s really safe for him anymore––the nightmares will follow him wherever he goes. There’s nothing Alex can do to keep Liam safe from the horrors of his own mind, even if he pulls him close and tells him that everything will be okay. It all  _ will  _ be okay, though. That much he’s sure of. That much he has to truly believe to make this all even just a bit easier for the both of them. One night, Liam won’t wake up screaming. One night, Alex won’t feel his heart break with his best friend’s cries. 

That night is not tonight, though. Tonight, Alex climbs into Liam’s bed and holds him until he goes back asleep. Tonight, Alex can’t sleep because he wants to be here and awake if Liam starts to have another nightmare. Tonight, Alex’s heart breaks and aches for his friend who finds himself in pieces––pieces that Alex doesn’t know how to put back together again.

* * *

It takes a week for Alex to muster the strength and courage to leave his apartment. When he leaves, it’s only for thirty minutes and only because he and Liam are driving each other insane. A week in shows that they have exhausted all resources––even the tube doesn’t entertain them anymore. So, for the sake of their sanity and friendship, Alex goes outside. Thirty minutes, he decides, is enough time to go to the record shop and check in with his favorite shop owners. Maybe he’ll bring home some music and it can entertain them, even for a little while. Plus, it’ll be good for him to get some fresh air. He just wishes that Liam would be open to getting out for a bit, too. He refuses to leave the apartment, though. He thinks people will stare at him or yell at him as he walks down the street.

When he steps into the shop, his senses are affronted by a thick cloud of incense. He coughs and sputters for a moment, having grown unacquainted with the earthy smell and thickness of the smoke. His cough catches Cash’s attention, it seems, since he then emerges from the beaded curtain from behind the register. As soon as they make eye contact––even though Alex’s eyes feel like they’re on fire from the coughing fit––Cash smiles. 

“Been awhile,” he says, holding his hand up for a high five. 

Alex complies, beaming like an idiot. He’s missed this place. “Yeah,” he agrees, “sorry, man. Shit’s been rough.” 

Cash frowns and digs around one of the small bowls on the counter by the register where they keep an assortment of random knickknacks and lighters. He grabs a small, grey stone with a green peace sign painted on it and hands it Alex. “Amy makes them,” he explains. 

Alex turns the smooth stone over in his hand, running his thumbs along the paint. “It’s cool.”

“Maybe it’ll bring you some peace. She swears they work.” 

Alex manages a weak chuckle and places the stone on the counter. “I wish it could.”

Just then, Amy appears, too. There’s a box of records in her hands that she immediately sets down on the counter to wrap Alex in a bone-crushing hug. “Where have you been?” 

Alex smiles at her and shrugs. “Sorry, life’s been kinda crazy recently. Haven’t had the time to come in.”

She frowns at him like he’s offended her with his absence. Given how much he used to come in here, he would understand why she would be upset. He’s missed coming here. He’s missed being with Cash and Amy and listening to music and smoking with them. He’s missed the gentle vibes of this place that make everyone smile and feel instantly relaxed. Most of all, he’s missed being able to just go and  _ do  _ things without feeling like there’s an elephant standing on his chest. Even when Liam was gone, Alex felt miserable most of the time because he was so fucking worried and there was nothing he could really do to ease his mind. Now, even with Liam back, he still feels like he can’t do enough. He feels stuck and helpless and trapped. He just wants everything to go back to normal. He wants to be able to see his friends again and hang out like they used to. He wants Liam to sleep through the night without waking up from a nightmare. 

“You okay?” Cash asks, raising a brow at him. 

Alex shrugs the feeling off and slaps on a smile. “Yup. Just looking for some new music. Any thoughts?”

Amy and Cash share a knowing look before they escort Alex over to the record players out on the floor, already ready to go for a demo. Alex slips on the headphones and closes his eyes, letting the music take over his body. He wants to be able to feel it like he used to. He wants the melody to fill him from the inside out and have the music make his whole body tingle and take the edge off, even if it’s just for a few moments. He wants this to make him feel like himself again––to distract him from everything going on in his life right now. But even Johnny Cash’s whiskey voice can’t pull Alex’s head out from the dark place its been living in for the past few weeks. Even the roaring crowd in San Quentin that cheers after Johnny Cash sings can’t encourage him to put a smile on his face or to just stop thinking about everything that’s going on. Music, it seems, can’t help him anymore. 

Halfway through a song, he pulls off the headphones and sets them down on the record player, trying to steady his breathing and keep himself calm. His fingers are numb and his knuckles are white as his grips the edge of the record player. He looks down at the record as it spins around and around, the needle hopping a bit, and he tries to remind himself that he’s okay and that he and Liam are both alive. He has a boyfriend and a roof over his head and it should be enough–– _ really _ ––but it’s not because he feels like he’s drowning. It’s like whenever he goes downstairs to get the mail and his heart thuds dramatically in his chest whenever he sees that he has a letter. It’s like when Liam wakes up screaming and Alex feels bile seep up his throat. It’s when Henry came knocking with their food and Alex turned him away––the hurt that lingered in his boyfriend’s beautiful blue eyes. It’s all Alex’s fault. He should have pressed Liam to go to school. He should have made him put on women’s underwear or something so they would know that he was gay and wouldn’t force him to ship off to Vietnam. Alex should have done more. He should have been  _ better _ .

He doesn’t even realize he’s crying until Amy is handing him a tissue. He takes it gratefully and wipes furiously at his eyes, trying to get the tears to disappear. He doesn’t need to get home and have the evidence of his fit visible with tear tracks down his cheeks––Liam doesn’t need to worry about him on top of everything else he’s already dealing with. It’s too much already––he doesn’t  _ need  _ this.

“I know,” Cash tells him, rubbing his back. “I know. You’re gonna be okay, though. You’ll get through it.” 

Alex manages a weak smile, marveling at how Cash just knows and understands without Alex saying a single word to elude to his incredibly complicated situation right now. Cash smiles and leaves to go get something, returning with the peace sign rock a moment later. 

“Take it,” he says, “and find some peace.”

Alex takes the rock and the Johnny Cash record before he leaves. As he walks down the street, he tries to focus on the sticky, June air around him. He tries to smell the sweetness of the flowers in bloom on the trees and the music from the musician on the corner. He tries to keep his thoughts small and limited to this very moment instead of letting them run rampant in his mind. He tries to focus on the feeling of the cracked sidewalk beneath his feet and how he has to maneuver through some of the deep cracks as to not hurt his ankle. How the sky is the same shade of blue of Henry’s eyes. 

How Henry is right in front of him. 

“Shit,” Alex mumbles, having just bumped into him. “Sorry I was––What are you doing here?”

Henry smiles and holds up a bag. “I was coming to bring you some treats,” he says. “Pez showed me this charming little bakery, so I thought you and Liam might want something sweet. They’re excellent cupcakes.” 

Henry tries to hand him the bag but Alex shakes his head. “How about you, uh, come up? We can all eat them together. If you want.”

Henry stares at him for a moment and, for one horrifying second, Alex thinks that he’s fucked this up beyond repair. He shouldn’t have sent Henry away when he tried to have dinner with them. He should have called him or something, just to remind him that he cares about him and that he’s sorry he hasn’t been around more. But then, thankfully, Henry smiles and nods. 

“I’d like that,” he says. “If you’ll have me.” 

Alex beams––it’s the first time he feels like his old self again. “I was the one who invited you, wasn’t I?” He rolls his eyes and hugs Henry quickly, just to feel his body and smell his cologne. It’s been too long. “Come on, you idiot,” Alex grins, “let’s go.”

The two of them walk the short way back to Alex’s apartment, walking side by side until they get to the stairs. Alex goes up first with Henry right behind him, taking the stairs two at a time with his bag from the record store bouncing with each step. When he gets to his front door, he opens it and pokes his head in to see if Liam is still on the couch. He’s not. Alex sighs in relief, hoping to have a few minutes with Henry by themselves, and steps inside the apartment. Henry enters right after him and closes the door. As soon as he closes it, punctuated with a soft  _ click _ , Alex presses him against it and looks up into those blue eyes that he’s missed so fucking much recently. 

“Hello,” Henry breathes, his arms instantly going around Alex’s waist.

Alex surges up and kisses him deeply, having missed his lips over the past week since they’ve been apart. Henry is quick to melt into it and Alex hears the gentle thud of the cupcakes as they fall to the ground. Henry’s arms tighten around him, pressing them closer together. Alex gets a hand in Henry’s hair and feels it slide through his fingers as he starts to grind against Henry, eager to feel every part of him right now. It’s been too long––he’s missed him too much. 

Someone clears their throat.

Alex yelps and jumps away from Henry like he’s burned him. When he whips his head around, he sees Liam leaning on his bedroom door frame with a knowing smirk on his face.

“Jesus,” Alex says, still breathless from the kiss. 

“Sorry,” Liam says, holding his hands up in surrender, “I didn’t know we had company.”

Henry blushes and bends down to pick up the discarded cupcakes. “I ran into Alex on the street,” he explains. “I thought I would just bring you guys some, er, cupcakes? I can leave if you’d like.” 

Liam shakes his head and moves to sit down on the couch. “Nah, it’s cool. I could use a cupcake. Plus, it’ll be nice to talk to you instead of just hearing Alex describe the exact color of your eyes for thirty minutes straight.” 

Alex’s cheeks get hot as he glares at Liam. 

Henry just laughs and moves towards the couch. He sits down and opens the bag, revealing four semi-squashed cupcakes. “It’s good to know that I’ve been missed,” he says, still grinning. He offers one to Liam who takes it happily.

Alex rolls his eyes and joins them, sitting on the floor across from them. “It wasn’t thirty minutes,” he argues.

“Pray tell, Alex,” Henry says, taking a bite of his cupcake, “what  _ is  _ the exact color of my eyes?”

Alex reaches across the coffee table and grabs a cupcake, his cheeks still on fire. “I hate you.”

“Mm,” Henry hums, licking his lips to get a bit of the frosting off that lingers there, “I’m so convinced.” 

“What’s in the bag, Alex?” Liam asks, gesturing to the bag around Alex’s elbow.

Alex takes it off of his arm and sets it on the table. “A record,” he explains, holding it up, “and a rock.”

“What’s the rock for?” Liam asks, taking another bite of his cupcake. 

Alex shrugs. “Peace, I think. I dunno, though. Amy made it.”

“Could I see it?” Henry asks. 

Alex nods and puts the rock in Henry’s palm. Henry turns it over and studies it for a moment. “Do you want it?”

“If you want it, keep it. It’s just a rock.” 

Henry hums and slips it into his pocket.

Liam turns his focus to Henry. “How’ve you been, Henry? Been a while.”

“I’ve been well,” Henry says, “all things considered. Pez keeps trying to take me out to bars and such––he thinks I’ve become a bit of a recluse this past week or so.” 

“What kind of bars?” Alex asks, trying to act only semi-interested instead of scared that Henry might be going to bars to meet other people since Alex has basically been avoiding him for the past week. 

“Crazy ones,” Henry says. “Shirtless men giving me lap dances,  _ insisting  _ that they take me home and––”

“Fuck you,” Alex groans. 

Henry and Liam laugh at him. 

“You know I only have eyes for you, darling,” Henry says. 

“I’ve been thinking about getting out soon,” Liam says. “So if any of those bars have good whiskey, let me know.” 

Henry nods. “I’ll ask Pez. He knows all of the good spots, you know. Total bar snob.” 

“When did you decide that you were gonna go out?” Alex asks. It’s the first he’s hearing about this––he’s been convinced that Liam was too afraid to leave the house.

“Since Spence called me and asked to talk,” he shrugs, as if it’s no big deal.

Alex’s eyes widen and he sets his cupcake down on the coffee table, giving his full attention to this news. “ _What_? Why didn’t you say anything? Are y’all gonna get back together?”  “We’re just gonna talk,” Liam argues. “We’re not jumping into anything yet.” 

“I think that’s smart,” Henry notes. “You’ve already got so much on your plate, what with your live-in nurse over there.”

Alex rolls his eyes. “I’m not his nurse.” 

Liam nods thoughtfully. “Yeah, you act more like a mom. I feel like I’ll get in trouble if I leave past my curfew.” 

“Why am  _ I  _ the one getting picked on?” he asks.

“Because today is the first time you left the apartment in a week,” Liam says quickly, as if he already has his answer ready for this very moment. “And you’re easy to pick on.”

Alex folds his arms across his chest and scowls at them. “I hate you both.” 

“We know,” Henry says. “Well, how about we all go out sometime? Pez has been telling me about this party coming up. I think it would be a good time, you know? We can all get out there again and remember that we’re young and supposed to have fun.” 

“I think Alex should definitely go,” Liam agrees. “He’s a few steps away from ditching us for bingo night at the community center. Or maybe a book club with the church moms. Jury’s still out on which it’ll be.”

“I’m not turning into an old lady,” Alex huffs, “and I don’t want to go to a party. Liam needs me here.” 

Liam bites his lip and looks away. 

“You need me here, right?” 

“I need you to go out and have fun,” Liam says. “While you’re out, I’ll have Spence here for our talk. Then you can know that I’m not alone and you can go have a fun date night with your boyfriend who is, somehow, still putting up with your sorry ass.”

“I’m not an old lady!” Alex protests again. 

Henry doesn’t seem to hear him or, at least, he doesn’t care. “Wonderful,” he says. “So it’s settled then, hm? We’ll go to this party and you and Spencer will have the apartment to yourselves for whatever conversation you have.”

Alex opens his mouth to protest but Henry stands up, moves over to him, and places a quick kiss on his head.

“Now that that’s all settled,” he says, “I should get going. Alex, I’ll call you with the details. Liam, it’s been a pleasure.” 

As soon as Henry leaves, Liam starts laughing hysterically.

“What now?” Alex asks.

“I just can’t believe that worked,” he says, his eyes tearing up from his violent laughter. “I mean, we  _ planned  _ it, but still. You literally walked right into that one, huh?”

Alex glares at him, having no idea what he’s talking about. 

“Come  _ on _ , man,” Liam says, “I called him and we planned this whole thing. Why else do you think I kept pressing you to leave at such a specific time?”

As it all clicks into place––the meeting on the sidewalk, the cupcakes, this entire conversation––Alex rolls his eyes and lobs the empty bag from the record shop at Liam’s head. “I  _ hate  _ you.” 

“Yeah, I know. But at least you’re getting your life back.” 

Alex doesn’t even have the heart to be mad at either of them––he’s just happy that he has at least two people that care about him enough to go to extraordinary lengths to make him happy. He’s missed this––he’s missed feeling happy like this. He thinks that, this time, it might even last. 

* * *

It’s the late afternoon and Alex is hunched over his desk as he takes a career test––a piece of paper that has the ability to determine his entire future. He’s still struggling to figure out what he wants to do with his life now that he’s graduated college, so he’s hoping that this quiz provides him with some much-needed advice. His parents keep bringing up law school and, honestly, it’s starting to sound like a fine idea. He just wants to make sure he chooses it because it’s something he’s actually interested in, not because it gets him out of going to Vietnam. It’s a difficult decision, for sure, but it’s one that he hopes this stupid career test might help with.

He’s about two pages deep when someone knocks on the door. He groans and gets up to go see who it is, knowing that Liam won’t answer it. He marches over to the door, expecting to find Henry or June on the other side, but finds Nora there instead. 

“Oh,” he says, one arm on the doorframe as he stares at her, “hey.” 

She pushes past him and into the apartment. “I figured it out,” she says while she shoves her way inside. 

He sighs and closes the door before turning to face her. “Great. Figured out what?” 

Nora gestures to everything around them which doesn’t really give him any sort of vivid insight into what she means. “The  _ draft _ ,” she exclaims. “I know how to get you out of the draft.” 

His heart thuds in his ears with the promise of this––a way to get him out of the draft is something he’s been thinking about for a long fucking time now. And, especially now that he has Henry in his life, he’s been desperate to come up with a plausible reason to keep him here instead of getting shipped off to Vietnam. He and Nora have talked through the various tactics people have used to get out of it like getting super high the night before so they look physically out of shape or wearing women’s underwear, but none of them actually guarantee safety one hundred percent. Unless he wants to move to Canada or something––which he doesn’t––then he’s basically out of luck for a completely foolproof option. Could this be the one option that will totally work? Will this be the thing to get rid of all of his fears? 

He feels like he might pass out. 

“Okay,” he says evenly, really trying not to get his hopes up just in case, “what is it?” 

Nora comes up to him, setting her hands on his shoulders and staring him dead in the eye. “Alejandro,” she says with a smile, “we should get  _ married _ .”

It feels like all of the air has been sucked out of his lungs. He gapes at her, unable to think or say anything. He doesn’t understand why this is her big idea––how would that work? He’s dating Henry and he doesn’t want to lose him like this. He can’t imagine that Henry would still want to date him if he was married––who in their right mind would? This can’t be her big idea––this is possibly one of the most idiotic things he’s ever heard. It’s so idiotic, in fact, that he starts to laugh at the complete absurdity of it. It must be a joke. It  _ has  _ to be a joke. 

“Alex,” Nora says, her tone serious and her gaze intense, “I’m not kidding.” 

He swallows nervously and steps back as he tries to wrap his head around this. “What? Nora, you know I love you, but I’m––“

“They won’t draft you if you have to support your wife,” Nora says. “It’s part of the rules.” 

Alex shakes his head. He can’t imagine being capable to do much else in this moment. 

“Don’t be mad at me,” she pleads. “It’s a good idea, even if it kind of sucks. After the draft and the war, we can divorce and life can go on as usual.” 

“I––I’m not mad at you,” he says. It’s true. He knows that this is just Nora’s way of trying to help him, even if it’s something he really,  _ really  _ doesn’t want to have to do. “I just––can I at least think about it?” 

She nods and her eyes soften. She moves up and presses a gentle kiss onto his cheek. “Yeah. I just wanted to let you know. Really think about it, though. I want to keep you here––who else am I gonna make fun of if you’re gone?” 

Alex rolls his eyes and brings her in for a hug. “Thanks,” he mumbles, “for looking after me.” 

* * *

It feels wrong to be going to a party, even if Liam is the one pushing him to go. Now, standing here in nothing but a towel and dripping water onto the floor of his room while he stares blankly at his closet, he feels slightly sick to his stomach with the thought of leaving. Whatever happiness or inspiration filled him when Liam and Henry first told him about this party has since faded away completely and has been replaced with a knot of anxiety low in his stomach. Now, staring at his closet, all he feels is dread. The thought of going out, drinking, and dancing while Liam sits at home makes Alex feel guilty. There’s no backing out now, though. If he tries to stay home, he thinks that Liam might literally drag him out of the apartment and lock him out until morning. So, basically, he has no choice. 

To make it a bit easier, he waddles into the kitchen with his towel still hanging low on his hips and pours himself a shot of whiskey. It slides and burns down his throat for a moment before he decides that another shot might do him some good. The second one goes down a bit easier and instantly fills him with delightful warmth. It’s after this second shot that he realizes he hasn’t eaten anything today, having spent most of his day either in front of the television or looking through job postings in the paper. He shrugs it off and makes a mental note to eat some snacks at the party so he doesn’t get super wasted later. 

Feeling warm and satisfied for now, he heads back to his room to put some clothes on. He decides on his snuggest pair of light-wash bell bottoms and a bright, tight-fitting knit shirt with a stripe across his chest. He looks at himself in the mirror before he starts to head out, deciding that his ass has never looked better.

On his way out, he pokes his head into Liam’s room to say goodbye before he officially heads out. When he looks inside, he sees Liam standing in front of the mirror and fumbling to button his collared shirt. Alex taps his knuckles against the doorframe to alert Liam of his presence. 

“Oh,” Liam says, turning to face him. His shirt is hanging open, exposing the middle strip of his bare chest. “Shouldn’t you be at the party by now?”

Alex shrugs and steps into the room. “I could stay,” he offers, hoping Liam will ask him to while knowing that he won't. 

“I’m good,” Liam says instead, turning back to the mirror to focus on the buttons.

“I could, uh, help,” he says, “with the buttons.” 

Liam opens his mouth, probably to insist that he’s fine and doesn’t need help, but Alex beats him to it. 

“I always fuck up the buttons when I’m nervous, too,” Alex adds. 

Liam stares at him for a moment before nodding so slightly that anyone who didn’t know all of Liam’s body language would probably have missed it. But Alex knows Liam like he knows himself––he’s got him damn near memorized at this point. So Alex walks over to him and starts to button his shirt for him, marveling at how close he is to his friend right now. It’s not even the physical closeness that’s making his heart run wild in his chest––it’s the emotional vulnerability Liam is showing him by letting him do this. This whole time, Alex has been quick to jump in and help Liam even though he never asks for it and always gives Alex shit for it later. Right here, right now, is the first time Liam has even sort of asked for help––the first time he accepts it instead of putting up a fight. 

“Thanks,” Liam whispers as Alex finishes with the last button. 

Alex gives him a quick hug before he steps back, unable to help himself. “I’ll see you later, okay? You’ve got this.” 

Liam rolls his eyes and nods. “Yeah, okay. Now go have fun, you weirdo.” 

Alex shoots him one last grin before he leaves the apartment to head to the party. 

The party is not, even though Henry told him that a while ago, in an apartment. It’s far enough that he has to take a cab, giving the driver the address that Henry gave him. He figured it would be similar to the rest of the parties that the six of them had been to before––cramped apartments with shitty lights, loud music, and cheap drinks. As soon as he pulls up, though, he sees that this is going to be nothing like those other parties. It’s a Brooklyn brownstone––massive, gorgeous, and looming. He stares at it in shock, able to see the dancing bodies within through the massive windows. The music is so loud that he can hear it faintly out here on the street, and the sound of him closing the taxi door shatters through the sound for a moment and leaves him in a strange silence. 

He walks up the stairs, taking them two at a time, the whiskey making him eager to see the kind of party happening behind the massive door. He figures that he doesn’t have to knock so he just heads straight inside, making sure to close the door behind him. The party is massive and loud––there are people  _ everywhere _ . People drinking, people dancing, people dancing in the stairwell. Alex doesn’t even know where to begin here––he doesn’t know where to look for Henry in this sprawling house. He sets off to search for him but finds the bar first. He makes himself a strong drink and heads off again, hoping to find his boyfriend somewhere in the massive, sweaty crowd. 

A few minutes and half of his drink later, Alex finds himself stumbling into a bedroom on one of the upper floors. Maybe it’s stupid to think that Henry would be hiding out in here, but he checks it anyway. He sees Henry as soon as he turns on the light, but he’s two-dimensional. Curious, he walks over to the framed picture on the wall and reaches out to run his fingers down the two-dimensional Henry’s face. There are two other people in the photograph––he recognizes the girl as Bea. It must be a fairly recent picture because Henry and Bea look the exact same here as they do in real life. But Alex doesn’t recognize the third person––the other man. Maybe he looks sort of similar to Bea and Henry, but his face is far less intriguing than either of theirs. 

“That’s Philip,” a familiar voice says from behind him. 

He turns and sees Henry standing there in a blue polo shirt tucked into dark jeans. 

“And who's Philip?” Alex asks, smiling as he moves to meet Henry in the middle of the room. Henry wraps his arms around Alex’s waist and Alex rests his own at the nape of Henry’s neck. 

“My brother, I’m afraid.” 

“So what’s his picture doing in a random person’s house?” 

Henry’s eyes twinkle as he laughs. “This isn’t a random person’s house, Alex,” Henry tells him. “This is  _ Bea’s  _ house.”

Alex feels his own eyes widen. “ _ What?  _ How does your sister live in a mansion? Why don’t  _ you  _ live in her mansion?” 

“It’s not hers, exactly,” Henry explains. “It’s a musician’s collective sort of thing. A few of them live here together and split the rent and all of that.”

“Well, it’s a really nice house,” Alex hums, looking around at Bea’s large room. Alex thinks that maybe two of his room could fit in here. 

“Truly,” Henry agrees with a nod. “Would you care to see the rest of it or shall I leave you here to stroke my picture’s face?” 

Alex elbows him softly in the side. “You’re such an asshole,” he laughs. “Why didn’t you say anything?” 

“I thought I might let you two have a moment.” 

Alex rolls his eyes and surges up to plant a kiss on Henry’s lips––just a short one to let him know how much he’s missed him. Henry melts into the kiss before Alex pulls back, feeling that they should actually go enjoy the party that he came all this way for. Henry frowns at him and tugs him back again, keeping him here in the tranquility of this quiet room admits the wildness of the party roaring outside.

“I have something for you,” Henry tells him, digging a hand into one of his back pockets. Alex watches as Henry places something in his palm. He looks down at the object and sees that it’s the rock Henry took––the one that Amy gave him with the peace sign painted onto it. Henry’s taken some sort of thin leather and turned the rock into a necklace. Alex clenches his fist around it, holding it in his hand, and looks up at Henry. 

“What’s this for?” 

“I want you to find peace,” Henry tells him. “And I was…hoping you might wear that to remind yourself that there’s peace, somewhere, in this bloody, mixed-up world.” He slides the necklace over Alex’s head––it hangs right over his heart. 

It hits Alex, right in this moment, that he loves him. Because only Henry would do this stupid, romantic thing for him. Because only Henry knows him so completely. Because Henry is Henry and his smile alone is enough to turn Alex into a mushy pile of feelings. He’s the one who makes Alex want to try harder––he makes Alex want to fight for a world that they can live in together. He’s loved him the whole fucking time, he thinks, even from that first moment at that protest all those months ago. Since they met, they’ve been constants in each other’s orbits––always circling around each other. This whole time, even when Alex thought they might have hated each other, Henry was constantly in his thoughts and in his heart and taking up room there. He found his way in and never once tried to leave.

Alex wants to cry––he thinks tears might be forming in his eyes already. He swallows them down because this isn’t the time for that. They’re at a party with a fuck ton of people right downstairs and he knows that this is a really shitty time for him to realize that he’s head over heels in love with Henry, so he just kisses his cheek, takes his hand, and leads them downstairs to where the rest of the party is. 

As soon as they get downstairs, they find themselves bombarded by Pez, Nora, and June who are all tipsy and dancing by the record player in the corner. Seeing Nora reminds Alex of their conversation from the other day––the one where she suggested they get married to get rid of the draft threat. It makes his stomach churn to think about so he excuses himself and gets another drink. 

As he’s pouring it, Nora comes up from behind him and holds out her own cup, silently asking Alex to pour some vodka in her cup, too. 

“Are you okay?” she asks, eyebrow raised. 

He nods and sets the bottle back down on the bar. “Yeah,” he says. “Fine.” 

“You’re not still thinking about––”

“ _ Nora _ ,” Alex groans, “can we  _ please  _ just not talk about it? I’m here to have fun.” 

She frowns, clearly unconvinced that he’s fine, and takes a sip of her drink. “Sure.”

He nods appreciatively and heads back to the group, watching as Pez, June, and Nora all dance together. He looks over at Henry––at those big blue eyes, those pink lips, the head of blond hair––and wonders how much easier this could all be if they lived in another time. Maybe they could have met in another universe where Alex didn’t have to worry about getting shipped off. Maybe they could have met in a time where it would have been easier for them to just  _ exist _ together without the looming threats that hang around them. Maybe they could have met in a universe and a time where Alex didn’t have to consider the possibility of marrying one of his friends just to stay here and try to build some semblance of a life with his boyfriend. 

But they don’t live in another time and the reality of this time is that, right now, Alex is miserable. His hand gravitates to the rock against his chest and he prays for peace before downing the rest of his drink. 

It’s the last thing he really remembers of that night. 

* * *

When he wakes up, he feels like he’s been run over by a truck. He groans and buries his head into the pillow under his head, hoping to block out some of the morning light that is currently threatening to melt his eyeballs. Burying his head in the softness of the plush pillow does little to quell his irritation or headache, though, so he gives up and tries to wake up, hoping that slowly blinking will help his eyes adjust to the harsh light streaming in from a window somewhere. When he opens his eyes, he finds that this is not his room and, more importantly, that he’s not alone. He jumps up, leaning back against the headboard, his heart pounding in his chest. Everything is still too blurry for him to make out so he has no idea where he is or who he’s with.

“Good morning,” a familiar voice rumbles beside him. 

He squints and sees Henry come into focus. He’s propped up against the headboard with a book in his hands, not even looking in Alex’s direction as he reads. 

Alex rubs his sleep-caked eyes. “How’d I get here?” Alex mumbles. His mouth is dry and heavy like it’s been filled with vodka-soaked cotton from a garbage can. Henry hands him a glass of water which Alex immediately chugs in one go before handing it back to him.

“I brought you here,” Henry explains. “Thought I should look after you after how pissed you got last night.” 

Alex frowns. He can’t remember most of last night. He remembers that he forgot to eat some food upon arriving which probably made his alcohol tolerance a lot lower. “What happened?”

Henry sighs and sets the book down on his bedside table, turning slightly to face Alex. “Well, after we went back downstairs, you had a few more drinks,” Henry explains. 

Alex nods, remembering as much. 

“Then you said you were going to the bathroom. I found you an hour later, high as a kite. I have no idea what you took but it was fairly obvious that, whatever it was, gave you hallucinations.” 

Alex growls and runs his hands through his hair, angry at himself for losing control. He needed to stay safe for Liam in case he needed him––he needed to be  _ better _ than that. “ _ Fuck _ ,” he says. “I think it was acid.”

Henry shrugs. “It doesn’t really matter, does it? You  _ always  _ do this, Alex. You always go too hard.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” 

He’s always been the life of the party. Parties have been a good way for him to destress during rough times––it’s why people like to party after protests. It’s nice to forget about the fucked up world for a while and just drink and laugh with good friends. Sometimes he might go a bit overboard, but he’s young and stressed. It’s allowed, right? And it’s probably not Henry’s place to make him feel like shit for having a good time (even if he can’t remember how good it was). He  _ already  _ feels like shit. He doesn’t need Henry to come in and make that feeling worse. He shouldn’t have to feel guilty for going to a party that he didn’t even want to go to in the first place. 

“It means that there’s obviously something on your mind,” Henry says. “And drinking won’t solve whatever it is, so you should just  _ talk  _ to me.”

Alex stares at him for a moment, unsure of what to say. Last night’s big revelation was that he’s so fucking in love with Henry that it actually  _ hurts  _ sometimes, but he doesn’t know if Henry feels the same way. If Henry is still figuring out his feelings, then the whole marriage thing will probably scare him off for good. The last thing Alex wants is for Henry to feel like Alex is moving too fast or assuming his feelings––he doesn’t want to assume that Henry would just be okay if Alex fucked off and married Nora just so he wouldn’t get drafted. He likes this thing with Henry––he likes being with him in the way that they are right now. He likes walking up next to him and talking to him about random, stupid shit. He likes kissing him and hugging him and knowing that, of all of the guys in New York, Henry somehow chose  _ him _ to be with. Alex loves him so completely that he isn’t sure what would happen if things fell apart between them, and he sure as hell would never forgive himself if he was the reason. 

“Nothing,” Alex huffs, trying to roll over. 

Henry puts a hand on Alex’s shoulder, rolling him back to face him again. “Love,” Henry coos, “you can  _ talk  _ to me.”

Alex nods because, really, he  _ knows  _ that he can talk to Henry just about anything. God knows that he already has. But this seems different to him. This seems like it has the potential to explode right in their fucking faces and send them swirling in different directions. 

“Yeah,” he sighs. “I––Nora asked me to marry her. To get out of the draft.” 

Henry smiles softly. “And?” 

Alex frowns, glaring up at him. “ _ And _ ? Shouldn’t this be, like, a bigger deal to you?”

“Why? It was my idea.” 

And… _ wow _ . That is literally the last thing that Alex expected him to say. For the past few days, whenever he’s thought about this, he’s tried to understand it as Nora sees it, not as Henry sees it. Nora made him think that Henry had no idea that this was even out in the world, let alone that it was Henry’s fucking  _ idea _ . He wasn’t mad at Nora when she proposed it because he knew that she was just trying to solve a problem for him, even if the solution wasn’t exactly ideal. She had good intentions. But now, finding out that it was actually  _ Henry’s _ idea, Alex finds that he’s actually really fucking pissed about the whole thing. Is Henry really willing to just ship him off into a loveless marriage? Does Henry really not care enough about him to actually tell him this idea to his fucking face? Why did he bring Nora into it? Why didn’t he just suggest it to Alex as a silly option that they could laugh about later when they were old and looking back on their youth? 

“It was  _ your  _ idea?” 

Henry nods and raises an eyebrow like he doesn’t understand how Alex thought anything other than that. “Didn’t she tell you that?”

“No,” Alex snaps, “she didn’t. And she shouldn’t have been the one to tell me in the first place since it was your fucking idea.”

“I don’t understand why you’re so upset,” Henry says. “It’s a good idea, Alex. It will keep you from getting drafted––it’ll keep you  _ here _ .” 

“It will keep me  _ there _ !” Alex argues, officially at his fucking limit with this bullshit. “It will keep me in a loveless fucking marriage. Is that really what you fucking want? You wanted to get rid of me so badly that you decided—without asking me first, by the way, which is fucked—that I should just fuck off and go marry a girl? Why not just have me shipped out to Vietnam tomorrow, Henry?” 

“I didn’t––”

“Think? Of course you fucking didn’t. You don’t fucking  _ get  _ it, Henry. You’re not American––you don’t know how it feels to wake up every morning and wonder if a fucking letter is going to come for you today. You don’t know how it feels to constantly feel like everything might be ripped away from you in a fucking second. And you don’t know how it feels to find the one person that makes all of that shit go away, even just a little bit, and then have them want to break up with you and throw you into a loveless marriage for––for  _ what _ ? Their own peace of mind?  _ Fuck _ . Jesus fucking Christ, Henry.”

Henry hangs his head. 

Alex doesn’t fucking care enough to comfort him right now––his blood is still boiling. He rolls his eyes and gets out of bed, rummaging around the room until he finds his clothes. 

“ _ Please _ ,” Henry begs, teary. “Can’t we just  _ talk  _ about this?” 

Alex barks out a heartless laugh. “No. Because you should have talked to me  _ before _ all of this.”

“ _ Alex _ ,” Henry breathes, “please don’t go. Not like this.” 

Alex runs another hand through his hair. “I’m leaving. I ca––I can’t even  _ look  _ at you right now. I need to just…not see you for a while. I need to think things through.”

So, before Henry can say another word, Alex leaves.

And then he’s gone. 

And he doesn’t know how to fix this. 

* * *

It’s been a week. Alex hasn’t seen Henry. Or heard from him. He’s thought about him a lot but thinking about him doesn’t help Alex come up with some sort of solution, so he tries not to. He really,  _ really  _ tries. Mostly, though, he just sits around and stares at the television screen or walls. He’s kind of become a useless potato of a man that sits, smokes, and does nothing else. Liam’s tried to pull him out of his funk but all efforts have been fruitless. June came by a few days ago but Alex excused himself in the middle of their conversation and locked himself in his room. He’s miserable and he misses Henry but he doesn’t know how to  _ fix  _ this. It would be so much easier if Henry would just call him and apologize or something, but he hasn’t. So, until that happens, Alex is stuck. 

Sometimes, when he can’t sleep, he runs through that morning, scouring over every single detail. It’s probably not healthy––it’s  _ definitely  _ not healthy––but he does it anyway because it was the last time he saw Henry, even though they were fighting. When he looks back on it, he sees things he didn’t really think about the first time––the tears in Henry’s eyes and the dull, lifeless blue of his eyes as he begged Alex not to leave. The way his fingers clenched the sheets in a desperate attempt to get Alex to stay so they could talk about it. Maybe some of this is just Alex’s mind conjuring up new details so he has something to hold onto, but it feels so real when he remembers it. He wishes he could go back to that morning and stick around so Henry could explain himself, but there’s really no use because time goes on while they’re apart. 

Now he just wants Henry to call him, explain, and apologize.

He’s tried to fill the random energetic moments with productive things––he has a stack of applications on his desk and his ID laid out beside them to fill in any information they need. They’re only half complete, though, if that. Oftentimes, he writes his name and information down then gets tired and crawls back into bed. Useless and dead to the world. 

Tonight, June and Nora are taking him out. Nora’s been by to apologize, having heard the full story of the fight from June, but Alex explained that he wasn’t upset with her and that they were fine––Henry was the one he was upset with. She had cried and hugged him and told him that she should have told him that it was Henry’s idea and that she should have refused to go to Alex with it instead of letting Henry go to him. Alex shut that down immediately and told her to not apologize for trying to help. He told her that he loved her and that avoiding her wasn’t personal––he was avoiding everyone right now. Until tonight, it seems. 

Thirty minutes ago, June and Nora came into the apartment in a frenzy and said they were taking Alex to a gay bar with them––some place Pez told them about. So he sits in his room, having just been forced to shower for the first time in a week, as June and Nora dress him and put makeup on him. He’s wearing jean shorts––given to him by Nora––but no shirt as the girls tear up his closet in an attempt to find some suitable shirt or another for him to wear tonight. June is the one going through his closet while Nora puts eyeliner on him––complete with little wings at the ends––and mascara. She’s also decided to try and tame his curls which, of course, is never a fruitful quest.

“What about this?” June asks, holding up a striped tee shirt. 

“Needs to be gayer,” Nora replies quickly, as if on instinct. 

June rolls her eyes. “We’d crop it,” she says, “obviously. Alex, do you mind if I cut your shirt?” 

Alex shrugs. “You’re the fashionable one. Do your thing.”

June smiles and goes to get the scissors from the kitchen. 

Nora puts her finishing touches on Alex’s hair––though he’s sure that it’ll look the same as it always does––then sits back on her heels and stares at her work to admire it. “Okay,” she says, frowning, “let’s get that off.” 

He raises an eyebrow, confused. He follows her gaze down to his sternum where the peace rock sits flat on his chest. He shakes his head, holding it there. “Not this,” he whispers. “It’s…I want to keep it on.”

Nora smiles softly and squeezes one of his hands. “Okay.”

June comes back with a shirt that is exponentially shorter than the one Alex previously owned. She throws it at Alex, telling him to put it on. He complies, sliding the cropped shirt over his head. He stands up, trying to pull it down like he would with a normal shirt, but Nora grabs his hands and then throws an arm around his shoulder, guiding him to the mirror. June joins them over there, throwing an arm around Alex’s other shoulder and grinning like a proud sister. He looks at the three of them in the mirror––two of the people that have always stood by his side––and fights the urge to cry. 

He swallows it down. He’s cried too much over the past week. 

“Y’all look beautiful,” he notes. 

Nora nudges him. “So do you.” 

He rolls his eyes but looks at himself in the mirror––he focuses on how big and bright his eyes look with the makeup on. On how the crop top shows off his stomach muscles. A pit forms in his stomach when he wishes that Henry could see him in this getup. He wonders what he would say. Would he take one look at Alex like this and pin him to the wall? Hike up his shirt and suck a nipple into his mouth? He shakes the feeling off. Tonight is the night to forget about Henry.

They walk to the bar––it’s less than a mile away. It’s on Christopher Street––not far at all from Alex’s apartment.

The hot night sticks to their skin like honey as they walk down the familiar streets. He tries not to get emotional as they pass restaurants that he and Henry had gone together. Instead, he keeps his eyes forward and his thoughts on all of the possibilities of tonight. It’ll be good for him, he thinks, to have a nice night out at a gay bar with Nora and June. They’ll get drunk together and have fun and be with people like them––people that understand them and don’t give Alex and his crop top a second glance. 

As they approach the building, Alex decides that it looks like a homey place. The bottom is brick and the top is some sort of muted terra-cotta or something like that––it’s like a cottage. The sign, in bright letters, reads “Stonewall Inn.” Alex smiles at the sight of it, thinking that this will be the perfect, random spot for him to unwind and forget about Henry for a while.

They head inside and find that the place is packed to the brim with all sorts of people in fun, colorful outfits. Two girls make out in the corner by the bar, their tongues halfway down each other’s throat. A man with stunning eyeshadow and blond streaks in his dark hair grins at them as they enter. Alex can’t help but smile at the sight of it––this place of complete acceptance and individuality.

“This is incredible,” June says, grinning. 

Alex nods in agreement. 

“Come on,” Nora says, taking each of them by an elbow, “let’s grab a table.”

They do and talk for a while before the girls tell Alex that he should get the first round. 

“To flirt with one of the bartenders,” Nora tells him, cackling.

Though he doesn’t think he’s quite ready to flirt with other people, especially sexy and intimidating bartenders, he goes and gets the drinks for them. While he waits, someone slides up next to him at the bar. 

“Hey,” the guy says. He’s tall and gorgeous with dark eyes and long hair. “I’m Adam.”

Alex smiles nervously––has he forgotten how to flirt or is this just his mind’s way of telling him that he isn’t ready to move on yet? “Cool, man,” he says, grateful when the bartender sets his drinks down on the counter. He hustles back to the table, his cheeks red. 

“You look flushed,” Nora says, pointing to his cheeks. 

He passes the drinks around the table. 

“Did someone flirt with you?” June asks. 

Alex takes a sip of his drink. “Maybe? I guess?” 

“ _ And _ ?” Nora asks, clearly excited for more details. 

“And I’m not ready,” Alex admits, mostly to himself. “I––I’m in love with Henry.”

The table falls silent for a long moment before Nora starts cackling. “You  _ just  _ realized that?” 

He rolls his eyes and takes another sip of his drink. “Fuck off.”

The night runs smoothly––they get more drinks, they laugh, and they have a good time. Much later, Nora and June are practically making out across from him. Nora’s cuddled up next to June, one leg thrown across her lap. The sight of it makes Alex’s heart hurt––he’s aching for Henry. He puts on a smile, though, because he’s  _ happy  _ for them, he really is, even if his own heart is broken and spent. 

“I think we might go,” June says. 

Nora smirks. “Yes please.”

June rolls her eyes but it’s fond––there’s nothing but love there. “Do you want us to walk you home first?” 

Alex shakes his head. “Nah, you two have fun. I’m gonna stay here for a bit, I think. At least finish my drink.” 

They nod and wish him a good night before they leave, leaving Alex alone at the high top with his half-finished drink and his thoughts. He sits there for a while––he doesn’t know how long––just drinking and drumming his fingers against the sticky tabletop as he tries to piece together some sort of plan to get him and Henry back together or, at least, to just get the balls to call Henry first. Either way, he’s not being very productive with his thoughts. He stares down at his drink, contemplating all of the things he could do to talk to Henry again, but none of them seem very useful.

There’s a cacophony of noise behind him and he sees police officers march into the bar. He freezes, taking his hands off of his drink, and watches as they talk to someone at the door before coming inside completely. He looks around the bar to see if anyone else is concerned about this and finds that there are a lot less people in here now than there were before he came here––it’s like half of the people disappeared. He frowns and watches carefully as the cops look around the bar, their menacing eyes glaring at the remaining patrons. 

“Line up,” one of the officers says. 

Alex doesn’t know who he’s talking to. The bartenders? The drag queens? He isn’t sure. 

“I said  _ line up _ !” 

Alex swallows a nervous lump in his throat and does as he’s told, following the rest of the patrons as they huff and line up against the bar. They’re acting like this is a normal thing. Is it normal? Alex hasn’t been here before––he’s never been to a gay bar before. Is it normal for them to get raided like this?

“IDs out,” another officer demands. Alex’s hands are shaking as he reaches into the tight back pocket of his short-shorts to grab his wallet. He opens it and sees that his ID isn’t there. He bites his lip nervously as he remembers exactly where it is: sitting on his desk at home since he was filling out fucking job applications. 

The cops move quickly down the line, taking some people outside with their hands behind them. They’re arresting people, he realizes. And he doesn’t have his ID. Maybe it’ll be fine, though––he looks older than eighteen. 

One of the cops gets to him––his nose is big and hairy and his eyes are narrow and beady. “ID,” he spits, hand outstretched. 

“I don’t have it,” Alex tells him, figuring that the truth is the right way to go with this. “I left it at home. I––”

“Take him,” the officer says over his shoulder. 

Alex’s heart starts pounding in his chest. Take him where? Is he getting arrested? “Why? I’m twenty-three!”

“No ID,” the cop says, “and dressed like a woman.” 

“I’m not––”

But he’s wearing a cropped shirt and tight-fitting jean shorts and a necklace and his face is covered in makeup. He doesn’t look masculine enough for them, he realizes. He looks too  _ gay _ . 

Another officer comes up and pushes him down on the bar. His face presses into the sticky wood. He hisses through his teeth as the officer yanks his wrists back, pinning them behind his back. The officer stands him back up and marches him outside.

People are shouting out here––it’s so loud that he can barely even think. He can’t process what’s happening. The crowd is shouting at the cops, he thinks, saying things like “pigs” and “gay power”. It swells in his chest––the feeling that something might be  _ happening  _ here tonight. He doesn’t know if these raids are frequent, but even if they are, he figures that they can’t all be like  _ this _ . He’s being arrested and the people around him are protesting it––they’re fighting for their friends’ freedom from the cops. They’re standing up to this bullshit. 

To his right, someone else being escorted out and shoved towards one of the vans kicks their foot back, hitting the officer in the crotch with a pointed heel. All of hell breaks loose after that. Someone throws a trash can––people start throwing punches. Alex wiggles free of the cop’s grasp and staggers backward as he tries to catch his breath, looking to the crowd to see what his next move should be. His shaking hand finds the rock around his neck––the peace sign. He rips it off his neck and chucks it as hard as he can, hitting a cop in the back of his head. He smiles, pleased with his aim, but quickly frowns as the officer charges towards him, nightstick raised. 

He’s on the ground. His leg is on fire. His mouth is bleeding. There’s a cop hauling him up to his feet and snapping cuffs on his wrists and he knows that he can’t fight anymore and that he’s likely to pass out any fucking second now, but, with his last moment of consciousness, he turns and says, “gay power,” then spits in the pig’s face. 

* * *

“Hey, Bug,” he sighs, holding the gross phone up to his ear. He’s in jail and getting his phone call––he hopes June is sober enough to come down to the station and get him.

“Alex?” her panicked voice says on the other line, “Alex, is that you?”

“Yeah,” he says. He twists the cord around his finger. “I need you to come bail me out of jail. And could you, uh, bring me some clothes? Jeans and a jacket or something?”

“I’ll be there as soon as I can,” she tells him. “Hang tight.” 

June is, as she said, here as soon as possible. The officers let him go when she bails him out and, as soon as he sees her, she cries and wraps him in an enormous hug. He hugs her back even though he’s in so much pain that it hurts to hug her like this. He figures he must look like a fucking mess right now––there’s blood on his shirt from his bleeding lip, his makeup is smudged around his eyes, and he’s pretty sure that he’s covered in bruises. At least he got to get bailed out, though. At least he gets to go home.

“Jesus,” June says, putting her hands on his shoulders and looking at him. Her eyes are red––she’s been crying. “I saw what happened––it was all over the news.” 

Alex smiles lightly out of the corner of his mouth that isn’t bleeding. “How’d I look?” 

She rolls her eyes and hugs him again. “Go get changed,” she says when she pulls away, handing him a bag. She wipes at her teary eyes. “I’ll wait right here.” 

Alex nods weakly and goes to the bathroom. He stares at himself in the mirror for a moment, taking in the horrific state of his face. There’s already a bruise forming under his eye and his lip gash is bigger than he expected it to be. His makeup is running down his face and smudged everywhere. He takes a towel––his hands are still shaking, he notices––and wets it in the shitty sink. He brings it to his face and scrubs furiously at his cheeks and under his eyes until the towel is black with the makeup residue. Now is face is red and the black eye is still there, but at least he looks a little less like shit. He goes into one of the stalls and changes into the clothes June brought him. He doesn’t even bother putting his old clothes in the bag––he just throws them out. 

When he comes back out of the bathroom, June is seated in the waiting area. She stands and slips an arm around his waist, taking some his weight for him. “Are you okay to walk?” she asks. “It’s only a few blocks.” 

He nods and she leads him out of the police station, side by side.

The stairs give him some trouble but he manages it okay with June’s help. He’s expecting to just be able to fall right into bed––he’s fucking  _ tired _ . But when June opens the door and he steps inside, he sees a familiar mop of blond hair on his couch.

Henry turns as soon as he hears the door open. His eyes are red and raw from crying and, when he sees Alex, a trembling hand comes up to his mouth in horror. 

“ _ Love _ ,” he chokes. It’s a mangled, desperate thing. Alex doesn’t know if it’s because of the injuries or because Henry is just happy he’s alive, but he also doesn’t really fucking care right now because Henry is  _ here _ . Alex lets out a sob and runs as fast as his fucked up leg will let him, meeting Henry in the middle of the room and hugging him so tight that he’s afraid Henry might actually burst from the force of it. Henry cries into his hair and Alex sobs into the crook of his neck, both of them absolute wrecks from this horrible night. 

“I thought I lost you,” Henry says, one of his hands running through the curls at the nape of Alex’s neck. “I saw it on television and I thought––”

“Shh,” Alex says, pulling away slightly so he can look into Henry’s eyes. He wipes away some tears with the pad of his thumb, keeping his hand there. “I’m okay. I’m safe.” 

Henry shakes his head. “ _ Look _ at you,” he whispers. “You’re not okay.” 

“Okay is relative,” Alex concedes. “But I’m home and I’m safe. Isn’t that enough?”

Henry nods and bites his bottom lip nervously. “I was so worried,” he says. “I––I really thought I would lose you. And I…I  _ love  _ you too much to even fathom such a thing.”

Alex feels like he might cry again and, for once in this stupid night, it’s not because of the pain or any sort of fear. “I love you, too.” 

Henry grins and crushes their mouths together––the week apart making them both desperate. But Alex is still in pain and emotionally drained so he has to break it off after a few seconds, choosing to rest his forehead against Henry’s and just hold him for a moment. 

“I threw your rock,” he admits. “I used it to hit a pig. I don’t think he’s going to give it back.” 

“You’re an idiot,” Henry tells him before kissing him once more. 

It’s true, Alex knows, but at least he’s an idiot in  _ love _ . 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to [Ghostangel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostangel/pseuds/ghostangel) for being the best beta and [Punchsomeoneforme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Punchsomeoneforme/pseuds/Punchsomeoneforme) for being the best artist!
> 
> The events that occur at Stonewall are ones I read in Martin Duberman's _Stonewall_. Accounts contradict each other and don't necessarily agree on every detail that night, but this is what I pieced together based on first-hand accounts from that night. 
> 
> Almost at the end––two chapters left. Thanks for reading.


	7. Seven (July)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The calm after the storm––Alex and Henry are in love (and horny) and also go to the beach!
> 
> **Warning for sexual content**

[Here Comes the Sun](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/3gMzoJAvUP8Em143xSC9hl?si=Lo97koTDTyKp1XI-ZnkkdA)

Henry and Alex are enjoying a quiet night in. Alex is still a bit sore and bruised from that night, but Henry is more than willing to stay by his side and help him when he needs it. Alex has told them all the full story of that night––the kind you can’t get from the newspapers or the news channels. He’s explained the feeling of electricity in the air and how the promise of a fight seemed to pulse through everyone’s veins and how it’s all a bit of a blur, honestly, but that he feels good about what he did, despite the hot water he landed in because of it. He carries his ID with him everywhere, now, in hopes that he never has to go through that sort of thing again. He wears his normal clothes when he goes out, which is rare these days, because he doesn’t want an officer to stop him and cart him away for how he’s dressed again. And, of course, he’s on probation for his actions––he has community service to do. It’s really the only time he leaves the house. 

So, he and Henry are enjoying a quiet night in. Alex requested they watch  _ On the Waterfront _ , just so he can see Henry’s dad act, and Henry was more than willing to share it with him, having not seen the movie in ages. So they’re watching it with a bowl of snacks between them––potato chips. Two beers are on the coffee table. They cuddle while they watch and, occasionally, they both make comments about the movie or about Arthur himself. Alex insists that he was a heartthrob––Henry groans and says, “I beg you to not.” It makes Alex smile and feel all warm inside so he reaches up and plants a soft kiss on Henry’s lips. 

About halfway through the movie, the door bursts open. Alex decides that he should really start locking it, even when he’s here. 

They both turn to see who it is and find Nora standing there, panting and doubled over as she attempts to catch her breath. 

“If this is another marriage proposal…” Alex smirks.

Henry’s fingers dig into his side as he laughs. 

“No need,” Nora says, still a bit out of breath. She straightens herself up and walks towards them, her eyes bright and excited. Alex is instantly scared to see whatever made her so happy. 

“Okay,” Alex says, raising a dubious eyebrow at her, “so what’s up? You’re interrupting movie night.”

Nora grins at him. “We’ve told you that you’re an idiot, right?” 

Alex rolls his eyes. “Yup, you’ve covered that.” 

She takes a seat on the coffee table, facing them. “Like, a complete moron. Fighting the pigs and spitting at one? Like, you understand how idiotic that was.”

He nods. “Yeah, Nora. Can you just tell me what you’re on about?”

“It was so stupid that it landed you on probation,” she continues, as if Alex never said a word. “And you know that it was dumb.”

“I thought it was brilliant, actually,” Henry muses. 

Alex plants a kiss on his cheek.

“But,” Nora says, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth nervously, “here’s the thing. It was stupid and moronic and whatever, but––and don’t tell anyone else I said this––it was the smartest thing you’ve ever done.”

“It was?” Henry asks, his voice low and confused and nervous. Alex finds his hand under the blanket they’re sharing and gives it a reassuring squeeze. “Why?” 

“Because,” Nora grins, “you’re on probation. Being on probation means that you can’t get drafted.”

Alex feels his breath hitch in his throat. “Are you serious?”

She nods aggressively, curls bouncing. “You can’t get drafted.”

Tears prick his eyes and his hands come to his mouth in bewilderment. This is exactly what he’s been looking for––this is his way out. He doesn’t understand it, not yet, but the joy and relief flood his body instantly. He feels like his entire body is buzzing with possibility and the thought just keeps echoing in his head: he can’t get drafted. It’s the answer to a thousand prayers––the thing he’s so desperately wanted this whole time. The best part is, he didn’t have to compromise himself for this––he didn’t have to lie or cheat or marry Nora to get out of it. He just did what he always did: he fought. And he won.

Henry is pulling Alex against him as Alex lets out a happy sob. Henry’s hands run up and down his back, reassuring him that this is real and happening and that it’s not some sort of mean dream. He can’t get drafted. He’s safe. He gets to stay. 

“Love,” Henry says, pulling Alex up a bit to meet his eyes, his thumb brushing away some of the tears on Alex’s cheeks, “you’re safe.”

“I’m safe,” Alex repeats, an uncontrollable grin taking over his face and making his cheeks hurt. “I get to stay.”

Henry smiles back at him and kisses him. Alex melts into it, forgetting that Nora is literally staring at them. He’s too happy to care, though––this feeling is filling him up from the inside out and making his stomach pool with a newfound feeling of freedom and relief. He’ll need to call his parents and tell them the good news––he’ll have to tell Liam, too. He wants to shout it from the fucking rooftops, honestly, because now, after everything, he’s finally fucking free.

“Not to ruin this moment,” Nora says, causing them to pull apart, “but, uh, can I go?”

Alex gets up and pulls Nora to her feet, throwing his arms around her. “Thank you,” he whispers. “Fuck, just––thank you.”

“Anytime, Alejandro,” Nora grins, kissing his cheek. “Now, I gotta go and meet June for dinner. Do you want me to tell her?” 

“Yeah,” he says, “it was your genius thinking, anyway.” 

She smiles again and reaches down to hug Henry before she leaves. 

As soon as the door closes, Henry grabs Alex’s wrist and pulls him down onto the sofa, capturing his lips in another kiss. Alex smiles into it, still in disbelief about his stupid luck and how his dumbass choices have somehow landed him here––safe and in Henry’s arms. For good. He’s giddy with the feeling that’s flooding through his mind right now––the erratic beating of his heart, the happy twitching of his hands as they find purchase in Henry’s hair, and the high from this beautiful, chaotic moment. He’s safe. He’s here. He gets to stay. He can’t get over it. 

He kisses Henry deeply, already craving more. He wants to give Henry every part of himself––he wants Henry to take him apart with his mouth and hands and eyes and know that, while he does it, Alex is offering up his very soul to him. Henry can take whatever he wants and Alex will just be happy that it makes him smile. 

“You okay?” Henry asks, his mouth moving to Alex’s neck. 

Alex releases a laughing breath of air and nods. “Yeah,” he promises, “I’m good. I’m––I’m the happiest I’ve been in a long time.” 

Henry smiles at him with bright eyes the color of the bluest skies. “Me too.”

Alex pulls him up for another kiss, letting his hands wander to Henry’s ass. He feels the tight muscles there, squeezing them through Henry’s jeans. Henry laughs into his mouth, his eyes crinkled and happy and alive. Alex is so in love with him that he thinks his heart might burst with the overwhelming feeling of it. He’s so fucking in love with him, especially right now. 

“I love you,” he tells him, biting his earlobe. 

“I love you,” Henry repeats with a groan.

Alex smirks and starts to pull off Henry’s shirt, not having the energy to move off of the couch. Henry moves to help him get it off. He throws it onto the floor and starts to kiss down Henry’s neck to his collarbones, liking a stripe there. He’s always adored Henry’s collarbones for some reason he can’t quite explain, so he treats them like a target. 

“Stop,” Henry breathes above him. 

Alex pulls away immediately, furrowing his brow in confusion. 

Henry puts a hand on his chest and gets up, walks over to the television, and turns it off. He walks back towards the couch with a sheepish smile on his face. “Didn’t need to hear my dad while we get off.” 

Alex laughs and pulls Henry back down onto the cushions, kissing him and pressing him down. Alex’s legs come to straddle Henry’s hips on either side before he gets back to work, starting once again with those damn collar bones.

He leaves a trail of kisses and bites, soothed over with his tongue, down Henry’s heaving chest and to the trail of hair that disappears into his waistband. Henry is hard already––Alex can feel and see it through the denim of his pants. He puts his mouth on the bulge, taking it in through the straining fabric there. One of Henry’s hands comes to Alex’s hair, pulling a bit as Alex teases him with his tongue. 

“Christ,” he moans, “you’re going to kill me, aren’t you?” 

“That’s the goal,” Alex says. He gets back to work and teases Henry until Henry is writhing beneath him and begging for more, more, more. 

Alex gives in eventually because he loves seeing Henry squirm but he loves the look on Henry’s face when Alex finally touches him even more. He unbuttons Henry’s jeans and slides them off, followed by his underwear. Alex can’t help but smirk when he sees the wet spot outside his boxers.

Henry’s cock springs free of its constraints, bobbing and leaking as it slaps against his stomach. Alex peers up at him and sees that Henry’s eyes are glossy and glazed over in lust and his bottom lip is between his teeth. His hair is a fucking mess and Alex doesn’t think he’s ever looked more gorgeous that he does right now. Without a moment’s hesitation, Alex leans down and takes Henry’s cock into his mouth, swallowing down as much as he can. Henry’s hands are back in his hair, tugging a bit. 

“Christ,” Henry moans. 

Alex smirks up at him, maintaining eye contact while he bobs his head around Henry’s head and shaft, using his hand to reach whatever can’t fit into his mouth. He loves looking at Henry while he does this––he loves seeing each swirl of his tongue perfectly echoed on Henry’s stupid, beautiful face.

It only takes a few more seconds for Henry to pull Alex’s hair hard enough that Alex knows he should get off. He does, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand and blinking up at Henry like he’s completely innocent. 

“If you’d like to do anything else,” Henry says, breathless and pink-faced, “you have to stop.” 

Alex grins and moves up the length of Henry’s heaving body to kiss him soundly. While he’s up there, he grinds down into Henry’s lap a bit, making them both groan.

“I want to try something,” Alex says between kisses. 

“Hm?” 

He pushes himself up and off a bit using Henry’s chest. His hands thumb over Henry’s nipples. “I want you to fuck me.”

Henry goes completely still and, for one horrifying moment, Alex thinks that he’s fucked this whole thing up. But then Henry breaks out into a grin and kisses him again, sliding his hands around Alex’s ass and giving it a squeeze. Suddenly, Henry is lifting him into the air. Alex yelps and wraps his legs around Henry’s waist, feeling that Henry’s hands are still holding onto his ass. He bites down on Henry’s shoulder and coaxes the mark with his tongue. 

“It’s so fucking hot when you do that,” he tells him before moving his mouth to Henry’s neck and sucking at the skin below his jaw. There’s a bit of stubble there––Henry needs to shave soon. 

Henry laughs and carries them to Alex’s room, dropping him onto the bed and straddling him before Alex has time to move. “Well,” he says, pushing a start curl from Alex’s forehead, “I won’t fuck you for the first time on that bloody sofa. I just so happen to be a gentleman.”

“I fucking hope not,” Alex growls, getting his hands behind Henry’s neck and pulling him down for another kiss. 

Henry’s fingers fumble with Alex’s pants, getting them off as soon as Alex lifts up to help him. Then Henry takes off his underwear and discards that, too, then his shirt, until Alex is naked and wanting below him. And, Jesus, is he wanting. It hasn’t even occurred to him that this is something he wants, but it makes complete sense now. He thinks that, maybe, he’s wanted this the whole time but has been too afraid to admit it even to himself.

Henry stops kissing him and leans back on his heels, spitting on his hand. He puts his index finger, slicked with spit, in the air. “You ready?” he asks. 

Alex nods, spreading his legs.

Henry takes his bottom lip between his teeth again and slowly moves his hand down, down, down until it’s between Alex’s legs and right by his waiting entrance. He looks up to Alex one more time, just to be sure, and Alex nods again. Henry looks back down and slowly pushes his finger inside. 

It’s a new feeling, for sure, and a bit weird, but it feels good. It takes him a few seconds to adjust to it before he nods again, telling Henry to start moving his finger. Henry does. He starts slow, just to give Alex some time to get used to the feeling, and then he starts moving it faster. Alex starts to move his hips to meet his finger, groaning and letting his head fall back when Henry’s finger is thrusting hard deep inside of him. 

“More,” he groans. 

Henry complies, starting off slow again as he adds another finger.

It doesn’t take long for Alex to feel ready for Henry––he’s sweating and hard and desperate. 

“Fuck,” he moans, “I’m ready.” 

“You sure?” 

“What did I say about you being a gentleman?” 

Henry flushes and nods. “Right, yes.” 

He lines himself up, putting one hand on Alex’s leg to steady himself. Alex watches to the best of his ability as Henry slowly pushes his tip in and then, even slower, the rest.

It definitely feels different than the fingers, but it feels good. It takes Alex a moment to adjust to the new feeling, but he’s nodding a few seconds later because he’s excited to see where this feeling goes. Henry nods back at him and slowly pulls out, then pushes back in.

“Fuck,” Henry says, his eyes fluttering as he thrusts back in, “you feel…fuck.” 

Alex fully intends on sassing him a bit but then, when Henry thrusts into him again, Alex groans instead. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he says, his head falling back as he eyes squeeze shut. “Right there.”

Henry pulls out and thrusts into him again, hitting the same spot. Alex feels like his entire body is being set on fucking fire right now––he nods frantically and pushes his hips to meet Henry’s thrusts. They find a fast rhythm between the two of them and, soon enough, Alex is so hard that he feels like he’s going to burst.

“Touch me,” he whines, his forehead slicked with sweat. 

One of Henry’s hands comes to his leaking cock, stroking it in time with his thrusts. 

“I’m going to––”

“Same,” Alex breathes. “Come for me, sweetheart.” 

Henry’s eyes squeeze shut and his mouth opens as he chases his orgasm, pounding into Alex as he comes. Alex comes with him, breathless and boneless. Henry laughs when he comes and then slowly pulls out before collapsing next to Alex on the bed. Alex throws his arms around him and nuzzles into his side, knowing that they’ll have to get up to shower soon but not really caring. 

“That was…” he finds that he doesn’t really have the words to describe it. 

Henry hums in agreement and kisses his forehead. “Indeed.” 

“I love you, you know,” Alex tells him through a yawn. 

Henry squeezes him a bit and tilts his head to kiss him. “I love you, too.”

* * *

During the second week of July, when the sun is bright and glistening on the streets of New York City, Alex is eating lunch with Liam in their apartment––dry, terrible sandwiches––when Henry bursts into the room with a bag in his hand and a bright smile on his face. Alex stares at him for a moment, stunned and confused, and watches as Henry practically skips over to him and kisses his cheek before sitting down in one of the open seats at the table. Alex hasn’t seen him at all today since he spent the previous night as his apartment with Pez for some much-needed bonding time, so seeing him in his delicious off-white pants and tight blue polo makes Alex’s heart pound in his chest and his mouth water a little bit. There are sunglasses tucked up on his head––big brown ones that look like they cost a fortune.

“You look happy,” Alex notes, watching as Henry sets the bag down on the table. 

“What’s in the bag?” Liam asks with his mouth full of sandwich. 

Henry opens the bag and reveals an LP with a black and white picture of someone on the front and, across it, “Space Oddity” in purple letters. “Some chap called David Bowie’s single,” Henry explains, running his hands over the sleeve of the record. “He’s British so I thought I’d give it a listen.”

“He’s cute, too,” Alex hums, peering over at the face on the sleeve.

Henry snatches it away and tucks it out of sight. “Excuse you,” he says, smiling. 

Alex puts his hands up in surrender. “What? I have a thing for pretty British dudes!”

Henry rolls his eyes and looks at the sandwich things spread across the table, frowning at them. “Is this your lunch? It looks a bit…sad, don’t you think?” 

Alex shrugs and shoves another bite into his mouth. “Can’t afford much else. I’m still unemployed.”

“Well,” Henry says, moving his chair so he can wrap an arm around Alex’s shoulder, “how about we do an all-expenses-paid beach trip, hm? Pez and I will cover everything.” 

“Do I get to come?” Liam asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“But of course. All are invited. You could bring Spencer, too, if you’d like.”

“Wait,” Alex says, pushing his plate away and focusing all of his attention on Henry. He runs a teasing finger down the collar of Henry’s shirt. “Does this mean I get to see you go swimming? In swim trunks?”

Henry nods. “Only if I get to see you swim, too, darling.”

* * *

The only reason Alex is getting out of bed at six in the morning on a beautiful July day is because his mind keeps supplying delicious little images of Henry with those damn sunglasses and his short swim trunks with his skin all glistening and sun-kissed. The thought of rubbing sun lotion on Henry’s freckled back is enough to make Alex tug off his blankets and hop out of bed. He stretches and walks over to his mirror to check his reflection, frowning when he sees that the bruising on his chest is still very much there and still very ugly and purple. He groans and throws on a shirt––a red one––and a pair of blue and white striped swim trunks. For a moment, he considers doing something with his hair but then decides against it because he knows that the salty air by the beach will just fuck it up more. 

Yawning, he starts to walk to the kitchen to make himself a few cups of coffee to get this day started, deciding to stop by Liam’s room first to see if he’s up. He knocks on the door and is met with a series of half-hearted grumbles and groans from within. He rolls his eyes and pushes the door open to find Liam with his head buried beneath his pillow and one of his arms slung over the top of it to hold it in place. Alex moves over to the bed to shake him. 

“Fuck you,” Liam mumbles, “I’m up.” 

“I’m so convinced,” Alex muses, laughing a bit even though he’s trying not to.

There’s a shift in the blankets and then Liam’s head appears from under his pillow, looking sour and pissed off. “I’m awake,” he says, rubbing his eyes, “now fuck off.” Like a dramatic child, he pulls the blankets back up and over his head. Alex chuckles and leaves his room, expecting him to emerge as soon as the scent of coffee wafts through the apartment. So he trudges over to the kitchen and starts to brew the coffee, smiling when Liam emerges from the depths of his room as soon as Alex pours them each a cup of it.

They eat breakfast and drink coffee together before they get everything ready for the day. Everyone has decided to meet outside of their apartment building at seven. Because their group is so big, they’ll have to take two cars. June brings her yellow VW bug and Spencer brings his blue Camaro. When he gets downstairs, ready to get into the car, he sees Henry helping June load a cooler into the hood of her car. He’s wearing short blue trunks and a white tee. His sunglasses are on and his hair is blond and perfectly styled and gorgeous and Alex is so fucking in love with him that he thinks he might cry. He doesn’t, though, choosing to just kiss Henry senseless against the side of June’s car instead. 

They load up and decide that Henry and Alex will ride with Nora and June in the bug, not minding the super tight backseat, and that Pez and Bea will ride with Spencer and Liam in the Camaro. They load and go, trying to leave the city before the rest of New York wakes up and decides to take advantage of the beautiful July weather, too. It’s only a three-hour drive to Ocean City and Nora has decided that she will provide all of the music and is, as always, unwilling to listen to suggestions. She’s brought a bag of tapes to play––some of them she mixed herself, she claims––and she thinks that she’s cracked the code for the perfect road tripping music. 

Alex and Henry are more than happy to cozy up in the cramped backseat and smile together as they watch the city skyline fly by as June speeds down the highway. Nora’s music is blasting through the speakers and the wind is flying through the car since the windows are down. Alex whoops as “Somebody Groovy” starts playing and leans over to kiss Henry as the song picks up. 

“What was that for?” Henry asks, his hair blowing back in the wind. 

“I’m just happy to be here,” Alex beams. 

Nora whoops in agreement in the front seat. “We’re alive!” she shouts out the window and to the other people on the highway. 

“We’re alive,” June laughs, sticking a hand out the window. 

Henry pulls Alex closer and kisses the top of his head. “You’re alive,” he whispers to him, “and I love you so much.” 

Alex leans up and kisses him again. “I love you, too.” 

Nora plays “Space Oddity” for Henry’s sake, though she wouldn’t admit as much, and Alex gawks at Henry as sings along with every word.

When they arrive, Henry helps June unload her car while Alex and Nora watch both of them. Alex throws an arm around her and he can’t keep the smile off his face. 

“They’re hot, aren’t they?” Nora asks, resting her head on Alex’s shoulder. 

“Gross,” Alex groans, “that’s my sister.” 

“Yeah,” Nora hums, “and she’s hot.”

Alex rolls his eyes and focuses on the way Henry’s ass looks in his swim trunks––the tight muscle right under the fabric. “We picked some good ones.”

“We really did, didn’t we?”

He sighs and pulls his eyes away from Henry’s ass and at the boardwalk beyond him that leads to the beach. “Wouldn’t it be cool if we could show the world how much we loved them?” 

It’s a musing––soft-spoken and nearly whispered. It’s not really something he’s thought about all that much since, due to circumstances, he and Henry have spent most of their time in one apartment or another. Standing here now, though, he wishes that he could go over and kiss Henry in this public spot and not obstructed by a car in an alley like the other times they’ve kissed in public. He wishes he could just take Henry into his arms and kiss him in plain sight. He wishes that the world could change completely and that he and Henry and June and Nora could all just be who they are without having to hide––without having to look over their shoulders to see who might be watching in the shadows.

“Yeah,” Nora agrees. She pulls herself out from under his arm and kisses his cheek. “Come on,” she says, offering him one of her hands, “today’s going to be a good day.”

Alex lets himself get pulled off towards the rest of the group and they all walk to the beach together. It is going to be a good day, he decides, because they’re all here and alive and there’s nothing but white sand and blue sea in front of them.

They set up by the water and pull out snacks and drinks to share while they soak in some sun. Henry takes off his shirt and hands Alex a tube of sunscreen while everyone else is sipping on Cola and laughing with each other. 

“Could you?” he asks. 

Alex grins and takes the bottle, squeezing some into his hands and then spreading it on Henry’s back. He feels the soft skin under his fingertips as he rubs the lotion in and smiles––this is one of the moments he got out of bed for, after all. 

“Thanks,” Henry says, turning around to face Alex again. He holds up the bottle. “Want me to get your back, too?” 

Alex shakes his head. “I think I’ll keep my shirt on,” he says. “I’m still a bit, uh, bruised.” 

Henry frowns and lightly runs his fingers down Alex’s chest. “Does it hurt?” 

“Not really. It’s just…purple and stuff.” 

Henry’s frown deepens. He looks over at the blue waves crashing against the shoreline. The sea breeze is blowing his hair back and his eyes are the color of the water and Alex can’t get over how fucking beautiful he is. He wishes he could kiss him right now.

“Would you like to go into the water?” Henry asks.

Alex nods. 

“You can keep your shirt on if you’d like.” 

He thinks about it for a moment before he starts pulling it off. When he has it off, he discards it on his towel and stands up. He offers Henry a hand and pulls him to his feet. 

“Don’t want it to get all wet and salty,” he says, looking down at his bunched up shirt. Henry nods, squeezes his hand, and leads him to the water. 

It’s fuckign freezing, despite the intense sun, but they step deeper into it anyway. The waves lap at their ankles as they walk further into the water. Between them, their hands are still intertwined. Fresh waves tickle their connected fingertips until they’re far enough for the water to swallow them up to their necks. Alex shivers and Henry laughs at him before bringing a hand to his cheek. He leaves it there and smiles like he has a secret. 

“What’re you thinking about?” Alex asks, his voice low and his head tipped to the side. 

“You.” 

Alex rolls his eyes but he’s smiling so wide that his cheeks hurt. “Oh, yeah? Anything in particular?” 

Henry shrugs––his cheeks are flushed. “Not really. I was just thinking about how, someday, I hope, I’d like to marry you.” 

His breath catches in his throat with Henry’s words. Henry’s eyes are soft and hopeful and Alex has absolutely no idea how to respond to this. Someday, he thinks, he’d like to marry Henry if the world ever allows him to. It seems silly, maybe, to think about this sort of thing––forever––when they’ve only been together for a few months. In those few months, though, they’ve been through more than most people have in a lifetime. There’s no doubt in his mind that Henry is his person. If there’s some way for them to have a forever, he wants it. More than anything. 

“Yeah,” Alex smiles, “someday. I like the sound of forever with you.”

They’re far enough out that it doesn’t matter when Henry kisses them because the sun and the salt and the sea protect them from the world living on the beach and beyond it. For one blissful moment, nothing matters except the salty tang on Henry’s lips and the way that their bodies slot together so perfectly. It’s just the two of them with the promise of forever. 

* * *

“We should have some people over for the rocket, man,” Alex says as he enters the apartment. Liam in on the couch with MAD magazine in his hand and the weather on idly in the background. He looks over at Alex, putting one arm up on the back of the couch, and raises an eyebrow at him. 

“What? Is this a joke?”

Alex shakes his head and moves over to the couch, plopping down next to him. There’s a bowl of chips on the table so he takes a handful and shoves them into his mouth. “Nope,” he says, spraying bits of potato everywhere, probably. “It’s way cooler than the one you went all apeshit for. This one’s going to the fucking moon.” 

Liam still doesn’t look convinced. “The only reason I did that stupid launch party was because I got drafted,” Liam reminds him, “and was bugging out. Is there something you wanna tell me?”

“Just that this launch is gonna be electric,” he shrugs. “It’s the moon, Liam. Like, real space. A fucking planet. Anyway, you know I can’t get drafted.” 

Liam rolls his eyes and shifts his attention back to the magazine in his hands. “If only we knew that being a complete dumbass got you outta going to Vietnam,” he sighs. 

Alex throws a potato chip at him. “Please?” he begs, making his best puppy dog eyes. 

Liam stares at him and whacks him with the magazine. “Fine, you freak. We can do a party for the launch or whatever.”

“Score,” Alex shouts, pumping his fist in victory. “You can invite Spencer,” he adds. “Your boyfriend? Your…special friend? Your lover? Your––”

“If you don’t shut up,” Liam warns, holding the magazine menacingly, “I’ll make you shut up.” 

“How kinky,” Alex chuckles. 

Liam hits him with the magazine again.

“The abuse I suffer,” Alex groans, draping a hand over his forehead dramatically and leaning back against the armrest of the couch. He prods Liam with his feet. “The launch is tomorrow. Can I use your space crap from last time? I’m too broke to buy new shit.”

“It’s under my bed,” he replies. “Shouldn’t you get a job or something? Or are you not a real adult?” 

“I am a real adult,” Alex argues, folding his arms across his chest, “and I’m still trying to figure out what I want to do with my life. My savings are enough to keep my rent covered, and some of yours, I’d like to add, so I’d shove it if I were you.”

“Whatever,” Liam says, flipping to a completely random page in the magazine, “but I’m not helping you decorate.” 

* * *

“Just a little bit higher,” Alex instructs. 

Liam glares at him. Since he’s taller, he’s the one standing on one of the kitchen table chairs to hang the space banner above the television. “You’re such a shit,” Liam huffs, raising the banner a bit higher anyway. “Here?” 

Alex nods and hands him a piece of tape. Liam secures the banner and steps off the chair, pulling it back to its spot at the table. And, just like that, everything is in place for the party. Alex is honestly pretty excited at the prospect of space and the moon and all of it, but he’s even more excited that he got his own copy of “Space Oddity” for Henry to sing to later. Maybe, with enough alcohol, Henry will perform it for everyone.

The drinks are all set out on the table and the snacks are on the coffee table by the television. The whole gang is coming over for this, per Alex’s instructions. Henry will be arriving first, also per his instructions, and bringing cupcakes from that bitching bakery. Alex requested a space theme for them when they spoke on the phone about all of this yesterday and Henry had laughed and said he would see what he could do. Alex is sort of hoping that Henry used his suave and money to procure the dopest space cupcakes anyone has ever made, but he guesses that they’ll just have to wait and see.

There’s a knock on the door because, after all of the unannounced visitors they kept having, he and Liam decided to lock the door at all times, even if they were in the apartment. Alex dashes over to the door while Liam pours himself a whiskey. When he opens it, he finds Henry there with a big box of what he’s hoping are the cupcakes. He grabs him by the collar of his shirt and tugs him into the apartment, kissing him as soon as he gets the door closed and locked.

“Hi,” he smiles, standing on his toes to reach Henry’s mouth. 

“Hello there,” Henry replies, grinning back at him. He holds up the cupcakes. “I brought the cupcakes.” 

Alex takes the box and sets it down on the kitchen table before opening it. Inside are twelve of the most beautiful cupcakes he’s ever seen––dark blue with little spaceships or moons on them and stars in the background. He slides an arm around Henry’s waist and leans on him a bit as he stares down at the cupcakes. 

“They’re beautiful,” he says, feeling a bit teary-eyed.

“It took a bit of convincing, but, when I reminded her of how much money I’ve spent there, she was happy to do it.”

Alex raises an eyebrow at him. “When did you go there? You’ve only brought me them once.” 

He shrugs and very purposefully looks away. “Oh, you know. My boyfriend was mad at me and didn’t speak to me for a week so I had to find a way to pass the time.”

“And that was…cupcakes?”

Henry cringes a bit and nods. 

Alex cackles. “Aw, babe, that’s so cute! Did you, like, get my face put on them or something? Or hearts or something?” 

Henry shoves him off. “And now I’m not speaking to you.” He moves over to the other side of the table, his chin up, and fixes himself a drink. Alex follows him over there, definitely not letting him get off this easy. 

“You’d miss me too much,” he argues.

Henry purses his lips and continues fixing himself a drink. 

“Liam,” Alex calls, looking over his shoulder at Liam who has since migrated to the couch, “wouldn’t Henry miss me if he decided to stop talking to me?” 

Liam blinks back at you. “Wait, can I stop talking to you?” 

Alex scowls at him and opens his mouth to hit him with some sort of witty comeback when someone else knocks on the door. He goes to open it and finds June and Nora with a few pizza boxes in their hands.

“We brought pizza,” June says, pushing her way into the apartment to set the pizzas down.

Nora follows her in and Alex closes and locks the door behind them. Nora looks around at the decorations for a moment before she pours herself a drink. 

“Thanks for the pizza,” Alex says.

“Thanks for inviting us to your weird space party,” Nora says, taking a sip of her drink. 

“It’s not a––”

There’s another knock on the door. This time it’s Spencer. “Oh, hey,” Alex says with a smile, pulling him in for a hug. “Long time no see, huh?” He turns around. “Liam, your boyfriend slash lover slash special friend is here!” 

Liam hustles over from the couch and shoves Alex out of the way, leading Spencer into the apartment and away from Alex. Alex watches them for a moment––he notes how Liam’s arm slips easily around Spencer’s waist as he points out the different snacks and alcohols. He leans against the doorframe and feels pride bloom through his chest because, just a few months ago, he never would have imagined that Liam would be as good as he is today. He’s nearly the exact same person Alex has known his whole life, apart from a few things that have changed, and he seems so happy. He goes out into the world again and he laughs like he used to and he sleeps normally through the night.

“You’re staring, darling,” Henry tells him, appearing by his side with a slice of pizza on one of the paper plates in one hand and a drink in the other. 

“I knew you would miss me,” Alex smirks, nudging him with his elbow.

Henry rolls his eyes fondly. “Yes, well, I got bored.”

Alex presses a quick kiss on his cheek. He turns to shut the door but finds that Bea and Pez are outside. He opens the door wide for them and hugs them both as they come in. 

“Welcome to my out of this world party,” he laughs. 

“Very original decorations,” Pez notes, looking at the decorations put around the apartment. It makes Alex remember the one actually original thing he got for this party. He bends over and picks up the box under the table, holding it out so Bea, Pez, and Henry can see what’s inside. 

“They’re space party hats,” he says, gesturing to the box full of paper hats. “Everyone has to put them on.” Pez, Bea, and Henry each take a hat, though they don’t look all that thrilled about it, and slide them on. He moves over to the couch area where the rest of the group has migrated. He holds out the box for them. “Take one,” he instructs.

“What are these?” Liam asks, holding one up like it’s a bomb.

“Party hats,” Alex says. 

“Where did…why?” Nora asks, putting one on. 

“I got them at a specialty store,” he explains, feeling proud of himself. “And as for why, it’s because they’re fucking cool. Now shut up and wear your space hats.” 

Thirty minutes later, they’re all gathered around the television to watch the launch. Henry is cozied up against his side and his friends are scattered all around the living room area. The announcer starts the countdown for the launch and they all hold their breath as the rocket slowly begins to take off from the launchpad and up into space. 

He turns to Henry and kisses his cheek. “That’s how you make me feel,” he whispers to him.

Henry turns to face him and looks extremely confused but also amused. “What, like your arse is on fire?”

Alex wants to make a snarky comment but decides against it. “No,” he whispers, “like I could go to the fucking moon.” 

Henry rolls his eyes but Alex knows him well enough to know that, under that eye roll, his heart is swelling in his chest. “Me too, darling.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to [punchsomeoneforme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Punchsomeoneforme/pseuds/Punchsomeoneforme) for being an incredible artist and [ghostangel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostangel/pseuds/ghostangel) for being an incredible beta!
> 
> As always, find me on [tumblr](https://bibliothesoph.tumblr.com/).
> 
> One chapter left


	8. Eight (August)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The gang heads to Woodstock and Alex has something heavy in his pocket.

New York is as hot and humid as it always is in August, but Alex doesn’t really mind it much anymore. He’s driving through Upstate New York for the concert of a lifetime with his best friends and his boyfriend around him. For once, he’s not planning the rest of his life like he’s on some kind of timer because he knows that, as long as he has these people in his life, things are going to be pretty fucking great. There’s no draft threat for him anymore but that doesn’t mean he’ll stop trying to make change happen and end the stupid war and fight Big Brother when he can. He’s getting better at taking it day by day, though, because it helps him enjoy the little things in life like the sweaty skin of his boyfriend saddled up next to him in this cramped car or the smell of the pines that come through as they zip down the highway. Or like the heavy weight of the package in his pocket that he’s purchased for this very occasion. 

Upstate is beautiful––he doesn’t know why he hasn’t spent any time up here before. There’s a sprawling forest on every side of the highway and the only things threatening to scrape the sky are the massive trees that go crashing through the air. Sometimes, they pass a tranquil lake with glistening water that makes Alex want to get out of the car and suggest that he and Henry go skinny-dipping in it. He doesn’t actually suggest that, though, because they want to make it to the concert grounds before the music starts. 

Three days in Bethel sounds like a fucking dream and he’s so excited that it’s actually something he gets to do. They’re all dressed up for it and everything because they’re stoked to take pictures and have a good time. Alex is wearing a tie-dye shirt that he’s cut open basically all the way down the middle, bell bottoms, and a bandana tied around his head. Henry is wearing jeans and a shirt that he’s left completely unbuttoned, much to Alex’s joy.

When they arrive, they park their cars and hike up the trail to the entrance where things are extremely chaotic. They have tickets that Bea got for them––bless her heart––but, by the looks of it, they’re just letting people in. They all turn to each other in confusion as they near the so-called line, wondering what the protocol is for getting in amongst all of this chaos.

“They’re letting people in for free!” a woman dressed in a flowing dress tells them, beaming with pride.

“Really?” Nora asks, turning back towards the entrance which is fast approaching.

The girl giggles and runs off––Alex notices that she isn’t wearing any shoes. They all shrug and make their up to the front of the chaos where, like the girl said, they’re just letting people in. They head inside the grounds to set up shop. They’ve brought a few small tents for the occasion, already having decided not to put anything valuable in them just in case those tents were taken by someone else during the festival. Alex and Henry go off to see if they can get some food and drinks for everyone while they set up since they’re all famished having not really eaten all day. Luckily, it seems like people are just arriving so the lines for the vendor aren’t super long yet. 

“This will be interesting,” Henry tells him, looking around at everyone getting ready for the music to start up. 

“Yup,” Alex agrees, “but it’ll be fun.”

They buy a fuck ton of hotdogs for everyone and head back to the group to give them out. When they get back, the tents have been set up and they’re all sitting around and chatting with each other. They give out the hot dogs and join them on the grassy ground, eating and chatting for a bit until the hot dogs are gone and they decide to head out to the main area to get good spots for the actual concert.

“Woodstock,” Nora proclaims, “is going to be the highlight of my life. I just know it.” 

“Couldn’t have said it better myself, darling,” Pez agrees, throwing an arm around both her and June. 

“And don’t forget that, even if we get separated, we all need to meet at the stage by  _ The Who _ ’s set tomorrow,” Bea reminds them, “because Pete Townshend is a dear friend.” 

They all agree even though they’re not really planning on getting too separated.

That night, Alex and Henry are pretty tired from dancing all day so they head back to the tents a bit earlier than everyone else.

“Can we, uh, take a walk?” Alex asks him. 

Henry raises a curious eyebrow but agrees, allowing Alex to lead them through the grounds. He fumbles with the purchase in his pocket, hoping that this is the right time to give this to him. They stop in front of the edge of the forest, looking out at the darkened trees and the night sky spreading endlessly in front of them. 

Alex turns to face his boyfriend, suddenly feeling very nervous. Henry must sense this because he reaches out and puts a hand on Alex’s shoulder, his brow furrowing in concern. 

“Alex?” he asks, his voice shaking a bit, “what’s wrong? Did you take something?” 

He shakes his head. “No, I…H, I need to tell you something.” 

Henry’s eyes widen. “All right. Whatever it is, you can tell me. I’m here.” 

He nods. His hands are shaking. “I, uh, well, the first part of it is that I kind of…did something.”

He sees the panic clear on Henry’s face. 

“Not anything bad!” he exclaims. “I, uh, applied to law school.” 

Henry’s panic turns into pure glee. “Really? Alex, that’s amazing!” He throws his arms around Alex and squeezes him. “Christ, that’s fantastic. What made you decide to do it?”

“I didn’t want to go just as a way to not get drafted,” he explains, “but, now that I can’t get drafted, I realized that it’s…it’s something I actually  _ really  _ want to do.”

Henry is still beaming at him like an idiot. “Well, I think that’s brilliant, love. And I’m glad you told me.”

Alex lets out a nervous chuckle and runs a shaky hand through his hair. “Yeah, well, that was just part one. Because law school made me think of my future and what that’ll mean now and…” Alex removes the purchase from his pocket and holds it up to Henry. “I got you something,” he says. “It’s, uh, because of a lot of things, but mostly just because I want to spend forever with you. And I dunno what that’s gonna look like for us or what the world will let us have, but I want it all with you. There’s no one else I’m ever gonna love as much as I love you and there’s no one else that I would want to spend the rest of my life with. And I can’t promise you much except for, hopefully, a life together. I have no idea what that’ll mean but I know that I want it with you. The good, the bad…all of it. Forever.”

“ _ Alex _ ,” Henry cries. 

Alex opens the box. It’s not a ring or anything, but a necklace. On one side there’s a peace sign painted on it and on the other side there’s a heart. It’s practically identical to the one that Henry handed him those months ago in Bea’s brownstone in Brooklyn. “I want you to find peace,” Alex tells him, re-using the very words that Henry said to him that night. “And I was hoping you’d wear this to remind yourself that there’s peace and love out there in this mixed-up world.” He slips the necklace around Henry’s neck––it hangs right over his heart. “And I hope that, when you look at this, you’ll remember that you’ll always be able to have that with me. With  _ us _ .” 

Henry cries and takes Alex’s face into his hands and kisses him. 

It brings Alex back to that very first kiss––the one in that apartment with the lava lamp in the corner. It reminds him of all of the kisses after that, too, the sad ones and the happy ones and the ones where, in-between those kisses, they promised each other forever. And, just like that, he’s falling in love with Henry all over again. And this is nothing like where he thought he’d be back in January––this isn’t the life he thought he’d have or the person he thought he’d be with, but he can’t see his life working out in any other way. It’s always been the two of them since that fateful protest in January. It’s always been some sort of magnetic pull between them, even when Alex thought he hated him or when he stopped talking to him for a week. Through it all, the one constant in his life has been Henry. 

Peace and love indeed.

* * *

It’s been exactly fifty-one years since that day. Fifty-one years since Alex gave Henry a rock and wished for a forever with him, not knowing how that would look. When he looks back at that day where they were both sweaty and exhausted and so in love that he thought he would die, he laughs because, just like back then, he had no idea where his life would go. At the time, he thought that forever meant something a bit different––he thought it would be a lifetime of living together and not having the world know that they loved each other the way they did. And, just like that day, it’s another hot and humid August day in New York. 

“Henry?” Alex asks. 

Henry is still in bed, still trying to catch up on sleep. His hair has turned white since that day and his skin has wrinkled, but he’s still just as handsome as he ever was. His eyes are still the color of the sea and his smile still makes Alex’s heart flutter in his chest. He’s slower than he was back then, though. He can’t dance like he used to or laugh at Alex as much without breaking out into a coughing fit. He doesn’t write much anymore, either, because his fingers ache and throb with the effort.

“Good morning,” Henry smiles, as bright as ever. 

Alex sits down on the bed next to him and runs his hands through Henry’s hair. “Know what today is, sweetheart?” 

Henry’s eyes dull a bit. His memory isn’t what it used to be––he forgets a lot of things these days. The one thing he never forgets, though, is Alex. Never Alex. 

“Fifty-one years ago on this very day,” Alex says, sliding down in the bed and pulling Henry against his chest, “I gave you this.” He fiddles with the rock that still lies against Henry’s heart. 

Henry hums.

“Seven years ago on this very day,” Alex continues, “we got married.”

Henry smiles at him and his hands find the rock around his neck. There’s one on Alex’s neck, too, given to him a few years after Woodstock when the record shop was going out of business. “What do they mean?” 

“Peace and love,” Alex reminds him, his voice gentle. 

Henry nods. “I always forget.”

Alex smiles and presses a kiss to his forehead. “I know, baby, but that’s okay.”

“Could you read it to me?” Henry asks him. 

Alex nods and reaches over to his nightstand, grabbing the book. It was his anniversary gift to Henry last year––a way to help him remember when he forgot things. “What part do you want?” 

“Read it from the beginning for me, would you? I love when you read it from the beginning.” 

Alex kisses his head again and gets comfortable, opening the book and setting it between them. “ _ Here Comes the Sun _ ,” he reads, “by Alex Claremont-Diaz-Fox. Chapter One: January…”

He reads the entire book to his husband, even when he falls asleep halfway through. By the end of it, he’s teary-eyed. He turns to Henry and kisses his forehead once more. 

“Peace and love, sweetheart,” he reminds him, “peace and love.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A huge thank you to [punchsomeoneforme](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Punchsomeoneforme/pseuds/Punchsomeoneforme) for being an incredible artist and [ghostangel](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghostangel/pseuds/ghostangel) for being an incredible beta!
> 
> I've loved writing this fic––I am obsessed with the clothing and music of the 60s and the wonderful chaotic energy of the people that came together to fight for a better tomorrow. For me, this piece has allowed me to dive deep into the vibrant culture and emotions of the 60s and I'm so happy that I got the chance to write this! It's been really fun :) 
> 
> I'm sad it's over but I hope that you enjoyed it. This has been one of my favorite fics to write so far! 
> 
> As always, find me on [tumblr](https://bibliothesoph.tumblr.com/).


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